


The Son of Winter and the Song of Spring

by Iship_lover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel Family, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Castiel, Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slurs, Smut, Some light magic involved, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death, Very background Michael/Adam, marriage then love, midam, noble Castiel, the Angels are actually good brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-08-26 06:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 40,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iship_lover/pseuds/Iship_lover
Summary: Castiel is an Omega. The only Omega of his generation, and therefore vital for the family plans of uniting him in marriage to a noble Alpha of an important family. When the King ordered him to be wed to a barbarian warlord of the Southern grasslands for the peace of the Kingdom, his household was furious. This warlord, he heard, Dean Winchester, with his great pack of riders and raiders, was to be his Alpha. He felt sick to his stomach worrying at the prospect.





	1. Out of the Cold

The Castle stood tall on the mountains, covered in snow while winds howled, battering the heavy stone walls and fortifications. At the halfway point of the tall, rocky cliffs, Castle Novak clings to the cliffs, stubbornly refusing to move. Castiel himself wishes that he could stay like the Castle, his childhood home, unmoving and forever the bastion of the Northlands. He liked the snow, the cold, even the raging storms that brought about long, warm nights by the fires in the great hall. Home. He will  **never** see it again.

“The audacity- _I cannot believe_!” Michael is still seething with rage, even though the orders from the Capitol arrived by raven nearly a week ago. His Alpha brother slams his hands down on the stone table, eyes tinging red with Alpha fury. Castiel shrugs himself further in his furs. Michael is the head Alpha, his head Alpha and he had long planned to wed him to some Alpha lord or lordling, perhaps even one of the King’s princes, but the King, their own Uncle, has cut off any such plans.

“The North fought for him, _bled_ for his Kingdom! And he thinks he can just-”

“Brother, please,” Anna, his Beta sister, places an arm on Castiel’s shoulder. Her soft voice offers them some comfort, but there is little comfort to be had in this cold nights. Not even the crackling fire could shut out the sounds of the storms. In his heart, Castiel would like to think the North was weeping for him.

“Lucifer and Gabriel will accompany to the South, to act as your guards and protectors.” Michael tells him later, as he sits Castiel down onto the thick, warm cushions in a smaller common area. The torches glowed on stone walls, casting an orange glow on his brother’s face. Michael looked older, and more weary than he should at twenty-and-six years. “Lucifer will return to act as my Second. It would be your choice whether Gabriel stays with you, but your brothers will be with you when you wed.” Castiel nods, knowing this is an act of kindness. Michael could have sent any of his other Alpha guards of the household. Sending his brothers would remind Castiel of the home he has lost, but they would also be his protectors, if the Winchester horselord turns out a cruel man and treated Castiel harshly.

“I would have chosen an Eastern Noble,” he shifts, and sits next to Castiel, bringing him closer. They have not done this since they were children, but Castiel found it comforting to lean into his brother, his scent of cool, sharp snow surrounding the omega. Still, Michael’s scent is frayed with anger. “Or a Western Lordling. Perhaps Balthazar, of house Milton in the Midlands.” It would have allowed Castiel to stay closer to his home even after being wed and mated, and able to visit the North. His marriage into the Southlands would mean months of travel. Perhaps he could never come home again- never see Michael, or Anna, or even Lucifer when he returns.

“I know, Alpha-brother,” Castiel whispers. “I know. But it’s the _Kings' orders_ -”

Michael sighs, cutting him off. “The North _bled_ for the King.” He growls. “ _Our father_ bled and died for the King. And now he marries you off to this barbarian- like, like a-”

“Whore?”

“I do not mean it that way, Castiel.” Michael rubs at his temples, and Castiel stays close, letting his apology waft through his own scent of clean snow and pine.

“I know, brother. I apologise.” Castiel takes in his brother’s scent. It could be his last months in the Novak’s stronghold. His last months at home. How strange, that one piece of paper, signed by an old King, would rip his family apart like this.

“We betrayed them, too. Once.” Michael tells Castiel. “We rebelled, once, but it was some four and ten years ago- Our own father stood with the King, and _died_ for him. Is that not enough?”

No. Castiel thought. It was not enough for the King, and now he would be wed to Dean Winchester. A horselord _Kan_ of the Southlands. A _barbarian_ , he knows from the rumors traveling across the Castle in hushed whispers.  He shivers despite the warmth of the fire and the torches.

\--

Dean knew that he must wed to secure his claim on the grasslands after his father’s death. He knew his pack was seen as wild, barbaric and untamed in the eyes of the Noble houses, so mating with a noble Omega would be the only way for his people to be included into this vast Kingdom.

As his father’s son and future Kan of the grasslands, Dean would have scoffed at the notion. As Kan of the grasslands himself, he knew the importance of securing an alliance with at least one Great houses. The King offered him the hand of a Northern Omega, his own nephew, brother of the old Northern house of Novak, son of the King’s late brother and of same house-name with the King’s household.

“He’s a smart one, this King,” Dean mutters to himself. His brother, Sam, has been schooling him with matters of politics and intrigue, just as he has taught him the ways of the bow and the sword. Marriage between Dean and this Northern Omega would mean vast distances between his lands and that of his mate’s family. Keep them apart, and it would mean a vastly smaller chance of rebellion.

“He knows his history.” Sam tugs at his leather overcoat. The largest tent, belonging to the brothers, rose over the far stretching caravan of tents and horses of their tribe. It would take months for the Omega to arrive, and the Winchester tribes must prepare for the bond-feast and marriage rituals, both in the fashion of the North and that of the Southern tribes.  
“The last time house Novak of the North united with an Eastern Noble, they rose up against this King’s own grandfather.”

“You told me,” Dean mutters. He hated this- the scheming and talking. He much prefer to ride out into battle against some rival tribe or other, but most rival tribes has been brought under Winchester control.

“Castiel is house Novak’s only Omega,” Sam tapped his quill. “By wedding him to you, the King means to cut off one way for the Novak’s to become stronger than they already are.”

Dean much disliked being a pawn in the games the King and his Nobles play. “I heard he _is_ a great beauty,” Dean rubs his chin, and thought of his future mate instead.

“There are still ways for this alliance to be of use to us.” Sam taps his own chin, leaving a streak of ink across his cheek. “I hear that Lord Michael plans to be wedding some Omega from an Midlands house. This would leave his familial alliances closer to us than the King wants.”

“Shh, Sam, I’m imagining what he’ll look like.” Dean grins and sniffs, but only smells his own Alpha scent, and Sam’s Beta scent. His brother scowls at him.

“Dean! This marriage means bringing the Southlands into the Kingdom-” A Kingdom held by a strong King, and split between Noble Lords, large and small.  
“Right, right.” Dean rolls his eyes and thinks. He’s heard rumours of an Omega, draped in white furs with eyes as blue as the Northern skies. Here, his furs would become stained and ruined with grass and dust, and his eyes would reflect the vast green planes instead of clear blue skies. This Omega- this Castiel, was to be his _mate_.

  
Despite knowing that this was a marriage of alliance, ordered by the King when Dean demanded a bride for joining the South to the Kingdom, Dean could not help but feel giddy with excitement. “ _Castiel_.” He whispers the Omega’s name to himself, later when he was alone in his own quarters. “His name is _Castiel_.” He smiles to himself. It does not matter, Dean decides, if his marriage was to be on the King's orders to weaken some Northern House or another. He would have a mate, and he would have pups. With an Omega as his _Kanah_ , he would have a family of his own, a legacy of his own. He smiles and sleeps, pulling the cloth and leathers around him. Outside, Dean could still hear the shouts and bustle of his tribe. 

 


	2. Prayers in the Light

Castiel descends down the contraption, from the stronghold at the side of the mountains to the sprawling Castle of the Northlands, the largest City of the North and where the Novak family conducted their lordly business.

It would be prudent for an Omega of his station to remain in his family’s high Castles, so far from the bustle of the city. And yet Castiel went, and his Alpha brothers did not reprimand him. It would be the last time for him to make such journeys, to take in the sights and smells of his Northern City, his Northern home.

Dressed in thick white furs, Castiel steps down from his pine and oak wagon, favouring walking with his guards to his prayers. The great Castle up the mountains has its own chambers, but Castiel preferred to pray amongst the people. Michael’s people, Northerners, and his people as well. But only for another week, before he begins his journey to become the Kanah of the Winchester tribes, the bride of the great Kan Dean Winchester. It was his duty, as a Novak, as a Noble sworn to the King and as an Omega of a great House. Castiel always did his duty. 

A Southern Alpha woman, sent by the Winchester tribes, sniffs the air curiously, though she remains guarded even with the other Alpha’s of Castiel’s personal guard. “Kanah.” Joanna, or ‘Jo,’ turns to Castiel. “You are my Kanah. It is an honor to guard you.” She knelt, brown pelts and heavy leather, though little armour, every bit a fierce warrior like Castiel’s Alpha brothers. Sent to Castiel even before the news of the betrothal reached the North, the Alpha guard and her men would accompany Castiel’s brothers and Northern soldiers in escorting him to the South.

“Have you ever seen snow before?” Castiel asks as he steps in the prayer house, leaving his other guards behind, but taking Jo with him.

“No, my Kanah.” The woman was dressed in Northern fashions now, though Castiel could tell the foreign clothes makes her uncomfortable. Some of the city-folk has stopped to stare at the foreign woman, whispering under their breath. Castiel tried not to show his anger at their pity. Truth be told, he has prayed to the Northern Eagle-gods and his ancestors daily since they received news of his betrothal, but it moved forward all the same.

And now he is to be a Kanah, a horselord’s consort. A Kan’s consort. Castiel nods, and dismisses her as well as the Omega handmaidens and pages brought from the grasslands. He could tell it was their first time, and likely their last in the Northlands. He wishes the Omegas a safe journey around the city, and commanded them to visit the sights while he prayed.

When they were gone, Castiel enters into a small side-chamber, for praying in solitude. He removes his outer cloak and tugs soft blue wool around his shoulders. Kneeling, he lights a clean white candle and places it onto the stone altar, alongside many other candles, both burning and burnt-out.

He prayed to the Eagle-gods for safety, and for freedom. The North worships the strong birds, who soared the skies and cliffs where no man dared to touch.  
“Please, Lords, tell me what I shall do,” he closes his eyes, clasping his hands around his necklace. “How can I be a good Omega to my Alpha.” He tried to imagine what Dean looked like, but his mind draws a blank. He imagines a strong man, a strong Alpha. But when he asked Jo, she shakes her head and tells him that it was bad luck for mates to know of each other before meeting. A Southern tradition, surely, since in the North it was custom to meet one’s betrothed.

Castiel has been told that he is a strong-willed Omega, like most Northern Omegas are, to survive the cold and harsh lands of the North. He could take care of himself without an Alpha or Beta mate, and his brothers have taught him the way of bow and sword, though he admits he is not as good at fighting compared to Michael or Lucifer or Gabriel. He has travelled once, after he has presented, to spend time with other Omegas at the courts of Eastern and Midlands Lords and Ladies. He found them to be rather soft, and easy to provoke into bursts of tears. Nowadays, Castiel finds himself in tears when he thought too hard about his future, away from his home, the only home he had known since birth.

“Father, mother,” he prays, this time to his parents, “Ancestors of House Novak, please, guard over me in my journey,” Castiel wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Guard over me, in my marriage.”

“Ancestors, give me guidance, tell me what I should do.” Castiel himself has no idea. He hopes his ancestors hears his prayers, even his traitor grandfather, who was likely the reason the King has sent Castiel far off to be wed, and the reason Michael could not get any offers from the Omegas of the great houses. “Take care of Anna and Michael in their Lordship over the North,” he prayed to both his family and the Eagle-gods. “Take care of Lucifer and Gabriel, and their Northmen guarding me, for they are my brothers, and my protectors.”

“I send my prayers, please, protect my sister, the bearer of my banners. She should be there soon.” Castiel felt a small pang at the thought of his Alpha-sister, Naomi, being first of his family to meet his mate. Of course, Michael only appointed Naomi as the bearer of the Novak banners as she had claimed her lands through marriage to an Eastern Omega. “She should sail down to the Southern Midlands,” Castiel prayed, “please, Gods and Ancestors, guide her ships and her sails for a safe journey.”

Prayer has a way of keeping Castiel calm, the seclusion of the shuttered off prayer-halls and the clean smell of burning pine and the warmth from the candles and the fire burning in the common halls seeping into his bones. “Keep the barbarian Alpha- Jo, safe on this journey as well. And the Southern Omegas. They have travelled far, and have a long way ahead.”

Castiel pauses, unsure of his next prayer. His necklace, in the form of an Eagle-god as all prayer-chains were, dug into the palm of his hand as he clenched a fist around the silver chain.  
“Please, Gods, Ancestors, watch over Dean Winchester, my- my future- please, let him be a good man, a kind man-” Castiel falls into a whisper, feeling his face flushing. He does not talk of it much, but he was worried about his match, and the long journey to the South.

Castiel stands, long after his candle has burned out, rubbing his knees to keep them from growing sore. He slings the white cloak over his shoulders and leaves the chamber, nodding to the city-folk that has gathered to pray in the common hall.

“Milord,” a soft voice speaks up, and Castiel smiles at the young girl, a craftsman's daughter, perhaps, “we all pray for you, milord, for your safe journey and happy marriage.” Her face flushes and Castiel feels a deep, satisfying warmth spread within his chest.

“ _Thank you_ for your prayers,” he reaches down and pats her shoulder. “May the Gods and Ancestors bless you and your family.”

“May the Gods and Ancestors bless you and yours, milord,” she flushes again, rushing toward a man that must have been her father.

Even after he returns to the Castle, up the beastly contraption that cranked loudly up the walls, back to his rooms and to the strange Omegas that sit waiting in the common chamber near his wing of the Castle, Castiel could not keep the smile off his face.

With his own prayers, and his people’s prayers, perhaps there is hope yet for a good journey, and a good marriage.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written some extra chapters so this one is updated pretty quickly! I'll try and make sure there are at least one to two updates per week, though each chapter would only be about 1k to 2k


	3. Waiting, wanting

 The Grand City of Kana-Manuk, with the blazing, tall bronze statue of a leaping Stallion and great stone temple in its center, was a true sight to behold. As the Kan of the Winchester tribe, Dean’s bond-feast has drawn tribes large and small to the City at the center of the Southern Grasslands. The Grasslands was large, taking up almost a quarter of the Kingdom, and the tribe of Winchester controlled nearly three quarters of the South. No wonder his mating would draw such an audience.

The City gates was lowered, and across on each side tents sprawled, making it seem ten times as large.

“Nearly _every_ tribe would be here, Dean,” Sam was yammering away about preparations once more to Dean and the City's’ councillors, the only permanent residents of Kana-Manuk. “Check our stores, Dean, we would need meat, yes, lamb, no- _not horse_ , Northerners dislike horse, I’ve _written_ about that-”

“Mead, and purchase wine from the merchants, too, Northerners like wine- but prepare Kumis, for our people- horse milk, horse milk, not sheep!” Sam huffs to some man or another.

“Yes, and purchase the sweets, too, we need to have enough to feed all the Kans, and the Northern guests, too- it’s a bond-feast, _my brother’s bond-feast_ , it ought to be _grand_.”

“And the fowls, too, chickens and- yes, all the edible birds, and bring in cooks, too, I hear Northerners have delicate stomachs-”

“Fish? Buy the fish- the price is no problem, just buy the damn fish- Sorry, sorry, my temper-”

 

Luckily, Dean has long since mastered the ability to tune his brother out. He knew that there would be another two months at the least, before Castiel and Jo and the Omega handmaidens and pages he sent to the North would return with his bride, but his inner Alpha has been howling for a _mate mate mate_ ever since he knows for sure of his marriage.

“It’s because you want to settle down,” Sam tells him crossly, when they were alone and back in their grand tent, standing out even amongst the other grand tents of the other Kans. “You Alpha’s and your- your _urges_ -” Sam huffs again and Dean rolls his eyes. Even in Kana-Manuk, the Kans and the tribes preferred their tents, and only merchants graced the inns of the City.

“You’re just _jealous_ , Sammy,” Dean laughs, “that I got a mate and you can’t even make a move on Jo.”

“I’m not interested in an Alpha,” Sam wrinkles his nose as Dean laughs at his brother again, their easy familiarity from years of ruling their tribe. Dean did the warring the the fighting and the posturing, and Sammy did the diplomacy and letter-writing and organising. Bobby and Ellen, his father’s trusted Seconds, managed the great horse and sheep flocks that followed the tribes. Dean knows he’s got the easy job here.

“Aww, Sammy- you never know. What about Becky? Any Omegas _catchin_ your interests?” Sam shudders at the mention of the overeager Omega, and Dean smirks.

“Shut it, Dean.” Sam shudders. At least Dean sent Becky off to meet with his Omega.

“Right,” Dean huffs, and stands, “I’m gonna go for a ride- you coming?”

 

His brother shakes his head, so Dean heads out on his own horse, a large black horse with a wild temper. “Hey-hey,” Dean calls, letting his mount sniff his hand, before mounting. No Kan rides with a saddle like Northerners, though all those who lived in Castles instead of tents were known as Northerners, so Dean squeezes his legs and pats the mount on the shoulder, as the other tents blur behind him.

Dean closes his eyes as clean wind slams into his face, his horse knows where to take him, and when he opens them once more Kana-Manuk and the tent city surrounding it was a distance away. Before him and his mount, was the open plains of the South, with nary a hill in sight. “Go- horse, _Imp_ , go!” He urges his ride to run and loses himself in his thoughts.

 

Dean has done his traveling as a young Alpha, back when his father was still Kan. He never reached the farthest North, though, where his Omega would hail from. Bad luck, he tries to chide himself. It was bad luck to know too much of his mate. Though, Dean thought, nothing wrong with thinking about where his Omega lived. He hears it was a land of eternal snow, though Dean found it hard to imagine.

 

The Northerners, or Midlanders as they called themselves during his journeys, told him that the ‘true’ North was a land of eternal cold. He does his Omega a favour, then, the Alpha thinks. Getting him out of the cold and into the fertile grounds of the South, where great herds of sheep and horses grazed year-round, though the sun was never as hot as the lands across the great salt sea, even further south than his grasslands, where the ground turns to dust and there was nothing for horses to eat.

Dean brings his mount to a stop near a pond, leaping off and stroking Imp’s mane as the horse lapped up the water. It had rained last nights, a good omen, the priests tells him, for it means his bond would be a fertile one, especially if it keeps raining until the Omega arrives.

 

There was an apprehensive edge in Dean as well, his inner Alpha anxious for his Omega- he can’t help but think of his future _Kanah_ as his, his head filling with want. His Alpha rut would be onto him soon, and though it makes him a great damn fighter, his rut would be a distraction when he and Sam and his kanate has a wedding to plan. At least his other brother- Adam, another Omega, would be there to help guide his future mate.

Dean stuffs down his urges and rides back to Kana-Manuk, the golden-brown city walls a welcome sight. It was the only walled structure in the Southern grasslands, and the center of the grasslands trades as well. Far larger than Northern cities, even.

 

“Dean, come,” Sam greets him as he dismounts, as they head towards the great hall, another large stone building that sat diagonal to the great temple for their horse-gods. “This is Naomi, Alpha-sister of your future mate, his banner-bearer and guest to the Winchester tribes.” The stern woman bows stiffly, and Dean returns the gesture. He knew that Castiel’s banner-bearer would arrive before him, and stay until after the bond-feast. The banner itself was a bright, blinding white, a large falcon-like bird- an Eagle, Sam tells him later, spread across the cloth. The symbol of House Novak, and that of the Northern Gods.

 

“Alpha Novak.”

 

“Alpha Winchester. You are to wed my brother.”

 

“Yes.” Dean frowns, standing taller. The other Alpha seemed stiff, overly formal, and there was something about her that makes Dean wants to growl and posture. He hopes that his Omega would not be like his sister.

She nods once more. “The Eastern Islands bring their gifts. Salted fish and squid, and dried kelp. Our ships would sail one week prior to the wedding. I hope you are _prepared_ , Winchester.”

 

Dean does growl, and even Sam’s arm on his shoulder does not calm him. “What is your problem, Alpha Novak?” He sneers at her. She returns the hostile sentiment and actually- circles him- she dares-

 

“My problem,” the other Alpha, smelling of salt and anger, growls at him, “is that my brother would be wed to a-”

 

“ _Barbarian?_ If that’s what you think I am, _you bitch_ , then-”

 

“Dean!” Sam grabs him again, “do you hear yourself? **Calm down!** ”

 

“Stop it, you all.” A gruff voice cuts through the tension, and both Alphas pause in their posturing. An undeniable scent of Alpha, elder, clears his head.

 

“Alpha Bobby.” Dean relaxes in the sight of his mentor.

 

“Alpha Dean. Alpha Novak. Please, Sam, see Alpha Novak to her chambers.”

Sam shoots Dean a worried glance, and moves to lead the absolute bitch to some inn or another. Dean hopes it’s one with horse shit on the walls.

 

Bobby shakes his head, and leads Dean through the cobblestone streets. “What was that about, Kan Dean?”

 

Dean shrugs. “You know you don’t need to call me that,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Encountering another Alpha does cause tension, it was lucky for them both, he admits, that an older Alpha steps in and stops them before they could challenge one another.

 

“She called me a-”

 

“Barbarian? Most Northerners think we are.” Bobby was never afraid to lay out truths to his Kan. “‘s likely that this Omega of yours would think the same.”

 

Dean’s Alpha bristles at the notion of his mate rejecting him. “We are not-”

 

“You can show him the truth, but you can’t if you rip his sister ‘part. Come, there is work to do.”

 

Dean sighs, and steps in place with the older Alpha. “ _It’s just_ -”

 

“Would you worry, Dean, if Sam was an Omega, and sent to marry across the salt sea, or into the far North?” Dean bristles at that thought.

 

“Of course I would! Sammy would never-”

 

“Then Alpha Naomi has good cause to be that way. Though it does not excuse her, and you, too, for being idjits.”

 

Dean sighs again. “I know, Bobby. But she’s still a _total bitch_.”

 

“Jus’ don’t say it to the woman’s face. Keep some _peace_ , at least, and the Easterners will leave once the wedding is done.”

 

“Yeah, in two _months_ ,” Dean couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the thought of spending two months waiting for his Omega, two months planning gifts and ceremonies with his mate’s Alpha sister that sets him off so easily.

 

“Keep yer head then, Kan Dean. Your Omega has more Alpha siblings sendin’ him on his way.”

Dean groans loudly at that thought. Gods, he prayed to the great Stallion and his great drove of mares and foals, despite his general apathy to all the praying his brother did. When would this all be over?


	4. Learning how to fly

Castiel brings the foreign Omegas around him, dismissing his Alpha guards. He should at least try to know them, the one male and two female Omegas would be his closest companions on his journey towards his bond-feast. They had the softer features of Omegas, though there was something foreign and dare he say exotic about them, their scent of grass that he had only smelled on Western and Midlands Omegas. He could tell that two were unmated like him, and sometimes he catches some of the Alphas in his personal guard sniffing around them. 

“Kanah,” the man bows and the women curtsied. “What need do you have of us?” One asked, excitement in her high voice, “if I could be of any, any help at all-”

“Calm yourself, Becky,” another Omega, a red-haired woman, rolls her eyes at the blond Omega. “Please, Kanah, excuse her behaviour, Becky excites...easily.” 

“Please, sit,” Castiel gestures towards the decadent couches and cushions, made from Western wool and far-west silks. 

The other Omegas smile shyly at home, all dressed in Northern furs. Their foreign leathers was of little protection in the North, even when the worst of winter was long past. 

“I would like to know of your customs, if I were to be your Kanah.” A Kanah, he has learned, is the ‘Queen’ of a Kanate, or tribe, husband or wife to the Kan horselord, to bear the Alpha Kan children and to manage the affairs and spendings of the Kanate. It sounded like an important duty, and Castiel has always done his duty well. Sometimes to his shame, he would think himself better than the pampered Omegas he knew from the Western and Midlands, swamped in their silks and fattened with sugar cakes. 

 

“You must learn the bond-dance, my Kanah,” the shy male Omega, Adam, with light blond hair and soft features, tells him. He caught him eyeing Michael, once, when Castiel was talking to his brother. He smiles softly. If Michael could find his mate, then he would not object to Adam staying behind. 

“Bond-dance?” Castiel frowns. It must be a Southern custom, he has never heard of it.

“All Southern Omegas perform the bond-dance at their bond-feast,” Becky, ever quick to excite, chimes in.

“It’s for luck,” the red-haired Omega, Charlie, smiles. “I danced the bond-dance at my Bond-feast when I was mated to my Alpha.” 

 

“Oh-” Castiel’s eyes widens. “Is, is it a public dance- in front of all the guests?” He felt his face flush. “But I can’t dance!” Like all noble Omegas, Castiel was expected to dance. But all the instructors that Michael choose could not instill a bit of skill in Castiel. Eventually, no matter how high a price his brother promised to pay, none would take Castiel into their classes.  

“Do not worry,” Charlie shifts closer towards Castiel. The Southerners are much more upfront than his Northern Omega companions, though Castiel cannot say that he dislikes such behaviours. Sharing his scent with fellow Omegas gives him a sense of peace and solidarity. “The bond-dance is unlike Northern dances.” She smiles and beckons the boy.

“Come on, Adam, show our Kanah your bond-dance.” 

The other Omega flushed and puts his head down, so Castiel smiles and places a hand on his shoulder. “ _ Please _ , I would need to know what a bond-dance is like, Adam.”

 

“Yes, Kanah,” Adam smiles back at him, and Castiel feels pleased that his Omega companions like him. Perhaps getting along with members of Dean Winchester’s tribe- his Kanate, would not be as terrifying as Castiel thought it would be. 

 

The dance was-  _ sensual _ , Castiel thought, as he moved them to a larger hall, the other male Omega’s face burning. There was something erotic, yet _graceful_ about his moves . He felt his own face burning up, turning in the same shade of red as Charlie’s hair. 

He would have to do this too, this- the  _ carnal _ swings of the hips, the  _ wild  _ kicks and leaps and leans. Unlike Charlie or Adam, his dance would be in front of a  _ crowd _ . He was to be the consort of a _ Kan _ . 

His face is as red as Adam’s when his dance was done, and the shy Omega tugs at his shirt. “Your dance is beautiful,” Castiel encourages him, standing and placing a hand on Adam’s shoulder. His heart would always have a soft space for other Omegas. They were of the same kind, after all.

 

A loud _ CLANG _ jolts Castiel’s thoughts, and he jumps in shock, the four Omegas all turning to see outside the spacious common hall. 

“Um...ah,” Castiel has never seen his brother’s face that particular shade of  _ red _ . The Lord of the North gapes like the fish Naomi sent from the Eastern shores. Open and shut. Open and shut. His brother was staring at Adam, who seems to be curling into himself, head bent down behind Castiel’s shoulders.

Michael picks up his dropped sword and hurries down the chambers without meeting his eyes. The Omegas glances at each other wordlessly while Castiel tried the think of something-  _ anything _ to say that could slice through the sudden discomfort in the air. 

 

“You should stay.” Is what he says instead, and Castiel covers his mouth with a hand the instant he said it. Adam’s head snapped up in surprise.

“I- Kanah-”

“I think  _ you should stay _ ,” Castiel blurts out again, remembering the look on his brother’s face and thought that Michael must have been watching them. “If you wish to, of course,” he led the Omega down with a hand on his shoulder as he dismisses the others. “I think my brother...is growing fond of you. He rarely is fond of others, apart from family.” 

Alphas of Michael’s status rarely married low-born Betas or Omegas. But it’s not like it had not occured. Castiel thought of the times his friends at Western Courts swooned at the song of the Prince of Light fell for a beautiful peasant Omega. 

“I-I…”   
  


“Just think on it, okay?” Castiel guides Adam to his chambers, adjacent to his own quarters. 

Adam nods, and Castiel smiles again. Unlike the other Southern Omegas, he thinks that Adam would suit the North. Strong enough to brave the cold winds and soft enough to bring a gentle touch to these stone walls. He turns. He should talk with Michael. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has struggled with me a bit, but now it's out I can move on. The story should pick up in about 2-3 chapters. Dean and Cas's first meeting is already pre-written, I just got to get the fillers in-between sorted out. Cheers!


	5. I want that one

Dean needs to pick a bond-gift for his Omega. There would be gifts, in the thousands, for both him and his Omega, but an Alpha’s bond-gift to his mate must be something better than all the other gifts he would receive. Dean would present it to Castiel, the Omega of the North, following their union which ties the North and the South. 

“Stop fretting, Dean.” Sam complains. Sometimes Dean thinks his Beta brother lucky, without an inner Alpha quick to anger and sick in want for an Omega still a month and one half away from him. Perhaps there is reason to the notion that Betas made better merchants and Councillors than Alphas. Or Omegas. Sam would tell him to stop such thoughts, of course. 

“Yeah, yeah- uh, hey, Sammy, the builders, when’re they comin’? The stage for the bond-dance”

“I’ve got that covered,” Sam pats his shoulder affectionately.

“You always do, Sammy, you always do,” Dean grins as his brother slings his arm around his shoulders. He’ll let Sam show off his considerable height. Dean’s in a good mood, after all. But he still has to think of something to give, something Northerners would  _ like _ . A horse? Could this Omega even ride? Perhaps he can fly, living so high up in the world it pierced the clouds. He would get this Omega to describe his home to him.

Dean thinks back of his march to the Capitol, and how the old King with his cold eyes and frail hands looked at him.

 

\----

_ Six months ago; _

_ “An Omega, you say. You demand a mate.”  _

_ “Aye, my King.” Dean bows extravagantly, a huge sweeping bow that has the King and his stuffy courtiers frowning. “I want for a mate, you know, but not just any Omega. I hear there are many-” Now he is reading off Sam’s script, the one he forced Dean to memorize, “many noble Omegas, unmated and for the taking. I ask but for one, and will give you my loyalty. And the loyalty of my tribe." Oh, he knows how much the old King wants that.  _

_ These nobles tittered and whispered among themselves, so Dean excused himself with a smirk and set off to retire to the luxurious rooms prepared for him. At least this positively ancient King, with his cold eyes and shark-like smile, knew how to pamper his guests.  _

_ “There you are!” Dean pats the unassuming man on his back. Prince Chuck yelps and jumps a little. A good man, Dean thinks. But unfit to rule a Kingdom. His Alpha brothers, though, are strong and would give Dean a good fight. _

_ “Dean! I know who father would wed you to-” _

_ “Woah, woah,” Dean spins, holding up his hands as they strode down the stone hallways with enormous windows. The armor these Midlanders wear, even at its lightest, proves to be an uncomfortable weight on his back. “You can’t tell me anythin’, man. It’s bad luck in the South.” _

_ “Oh.”  _

_ “Though,” Dean bumps Prince Chuck’s shoulder, “I do think that knowing this Omega’s name ain’t gonna hurt.” He grins. “C’mon, tell me, Chuck-o.” _

 

 _“W-well, he’s a Northerner, they live up the mountains, you know.” Dean did not know. A male Omega, though, gets Dean’s blood hot and running._ _Heh, yes, he thinks. I like the sound of that. “There is this great stone Castle, that clings to sheer cliffs, a real feat, but that’s where the Northern Novaks live.”_

_ “But I’ll tell you-” Chuck’s voice falls to a whisper, “that he’s a great beauty. The ‘Sapphire of the North,’ they call him.”  _

_ “Why’d they call him that?” Dean’s wandering into dangerous territories here, but he has never been too much of a religious man, despite praying to the Stallion now and them. Not knowing about a future Mate ‘cept their name and gender, now that’s archaic.  _

_ “Great beauty,” Chuck swoons a little, “renown throughout the Courts of the Eastern Coasts, the Midlands, and the Westerlands, of course. He has traveled among Courts, like any high-born Omega, of course, and there are rumors.” _

_ “Ya sure s’ not just hearsay?” Dean couldn’t help but feel a little excitement at hearing of this future mate of his.  _

_ “I’ve met him. Once.” Chuck laughs. “I can safely say, no, Dean, it’s not just hearsay.” _

_ “I’ll take your word for it, Chuck-o,” Dean elbows the other Alpha. “He’s gon’ be mine now, so you better keep your paws away, you hear?” _

_ “I hear, I hear.” The wind blows away the deep green curtains, letting warm light stream through. If there was no stone walls, Dean thought, he’d be free to ride through these fertile lands and take it all.  _

 

\----

Ah, the _mountains_. Dean thinks he knows what bond-gift he should give, now. 

Dean shrugs on a thin outer-cloak and works his way to the great stables of Kana-Manuk. A bustling place packed with merchants peddling their wares and buyers seeking the sleekest, fastest steeds, it stink to high heavens of manure and sweat, undercutting the sweet scent of grass that filled the South. 

He strides up to the keeper of the stables, and asks to see the gentle, pretty mare he’s chosen. Of course, they’d always give in to Dean’s demands. Even in Kana-Manuk, his word is practically law. Ah. The perks of being the Kan of the most powerful Kanate. The fur-trimmed cloak barely touches the ground. Personal tailors. ‘nother perk of being Kan. 

“I want that one,” he points to a mare Dean set his eyes on some time ago. Golden-cloaked and warm tempered, she was still a quick one. “Her name?” Dean spins the pouch of gold on a finger. He can hear the stable keeper salivating. 

“Her name is Connie, Kan, but you can change it anytime-”

“I like it.  _ Never _ change a horse’s name. They get attached.” Dean throws the pouch and the keeper catches it quickly, tucking it in his shirts before Dean could even finish his sentence. 

Dean pats Connie’s sleek head as he led the gentle mare down to his own quarters. It was a long walk, but it gave Dean plenty of time to think. His Omega is a bird,  _ flying _ down great tall mountains to become  _ his _ . Riding is like flying, Dean knows that well, when a horse leaps and gallops, cool wind rips through rider and steed both. Perhaps this would help his Omega feel more at home.  
And if he did not know how to ride, Dean can  _ always _ teach him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep going ahead and writing about after they've met! No worries though, it would be soon. I may slow down a bit since it's almost Christmas time and my family would be busy, but I promise this fic's gonna be done! I got the whole plot written out, just gotta keep writing and filling in the blanks. Cheers!


	6. On my way to your heart

Castiel sits in the large oaken wagon, rich woods rimmed with gold and silver and painted in the same shade of blue. An opulent thing, it is. Deep blue curtains imported from the East, threads of glass beads clinking against one another. Chop it all down for firewood, he thinks. And weave the beads into his hair. That would be good use for this thing. 

He was caught in the throes of his heat, and suggested that they postponed their journey, but his brothers noted that by the time of his bond-feast it would be the beginning of his next. He smiles, thinking of how the Southerners arrived with three Omegas and left with two. Adam has decided to stay, after all. Castiel dislikes the thought of leaving his friend in lands foreign to him, but after catching a glimpse of Michael and the other Omega whispering into each other’s necks, Castiel thinks that he has done the North one last good deed. He feels sudden tears well up in his eyes. Heat had always took its toll on his emotions.

“Little bird.” Lucifer noted as they set to rest by the woods just outside Northern territories. Castiel looks back, shaking his thoughts from his head. This would be the last time he sees his home, the Omega thought sadly. “I would stay, if I could, but there is duty to be done.”

“I know, brother. Gabriel would stay with me.” If his brother was anything, Lucifer was quiet and melancholy, attributes deemed by society as more suited to Omegas than Alphas, but Castiel, like any other Omega, could tell of his brother’s attributes from miles apart. If he was not so melancholy and lost in his head, he thought, Lucifer would be mated well before him. 

“He’s impulsive and irresponsible. Gabriel  _ will _ start a diplomatic crisis.  _ Mark my words _ , little bird.” His brother always calls him ‘little bird.’ Now Castiel is flying down their mountains, leaving his nest and his brothers and sisters. Where can a bird nest in the flat plains of the South except for the ground, always in danger from being trampled and ruined? 

Before Castiel could say anything else, a loud, obnoxious voice chimes in. “Oh really, Lucy? I for one think  _ you’d _ start one. I _ bet  _ the Kan would take a look at your face and-”

“Stop it, both of you.” Castiel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He loves his siblings, he truly does, but these two vexed him much more than Michael or Anna, or even stern Naomi, his Alpha-sister that he has only met a few times. 

“O-kay, okay,” Gabriel laughs, pulling up close to the carriage. Castiel brushes the deep blue curtains to see his brother. Closest to him in age, the golden sun crowns his carefree brother’s head in a halo of light, while he sits in quiet darkness. “You’re great big  _ bag of dicks _ , brother-”

“ _ Gabriel _ !” 

His brother turns his horse, galloping up against Lucifer’s steed on the other side of the carriage. They shove at each other a little, and even Lucifer has the ghost of a smile on his lips. His brothers do vest him, yes, but their presence gives Castiel much comfort. Lucifer’s icy scent and Gabriel’s scent of baking goods and warm drinks reminds him of different aspects of his home in the North. 

Even when his heat scent has his brothers wrinkling their noses, they opt to spend time with Castiel, telling tales of Lucifer’s Campaigns to quell small rebellions in his youth or Gabriel’s travels across the Ocean. Sometimes, Castiel wishes that he was an Alpha or Beta, so he did not need to flit from Court to Court, despite his enjoyment at those opportunities. His brothers have had a much more interesting life than his. Castiel supposes that he is finally getting the adventure he has asked for in his youth. 

\----

Castiel excuses himself from his brothers as they rested, finding his company in the Southern Omegas instead. “Please, teach me this bond-dance,” he asks, as they settle into a small clearing by the smaller road that grew from the great paved main road that stretches from the North to the Capitol. 

“Of course, Kanah,” the girls smile, “your wish is our command.” Charlie gives a deep mock-bow, and Castiel laughs, heart suddenly lighter than it has been since they left the North. Patches of flowers, growing wild in bursts of bright color, red and pink and cerulean, nestle themselves among blades of grass. 

His heat soaks into his body as it always had, and it made the twisting, acrobatic movements Charlie and Becky shows him easier to copy. Losing himself to the warmth spreading across his body and letting the unreleased energy from the ache and need in his body to be used in the movements- it was freeing, and he could see why the Southern Omegas saw the bond-dance as something for  _ them  _ to enjoy, and not just for the prying eyes of Alphas and Betas.

Castiel opens his eyes and tilts his head, letting sunlight spread across his face and neck. “Look,” he murmurs to himself. “I am in the light now.” 

\---

The next in they reach was in a larger town, with stone walls and wooden doors. And despite the comfort his carriage and tent provided on the journey, Castiel decides that some final nights in  _ actual _ buildings would be good for him, so they settled. 

The next morning Castiel and his company broke their fast on soft fresh-baked breads, warm butter and fresh milk, newly-picked berries red and inky-blue, a small platter of sugared cream for them each, a rasher of bacon and a plate of fried eggs. 

There were others in the inn, traveling Alphas that had scented his heat. Castiel can see them beginning to sniff the air, and he smells himself as well, heat scent mixed with the sweet smell of baking bread. 

“They’re smelling you, little bird,” Lucifer shifts closer to Castiel, hand on his sword. Some of the Alphas bow their heads and return, only casting sly glances at Castiel. That he can deal with. 

“Don’ worry” Gabriel has his mouth stuffed full, but he still attempts to speak. “w’ll protec yew.” 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Castiel mutters at the same time as Lucifer, and they share a smile. 

When Castiel drifts off to sleep in the soft feathered beds of the inn, he thinks that he should keep his brothers with him for longer- perhaps that is selfish of him, to keep them away from their shared home, but if they could stay until the first child of this union of North and South is born, then perhaps he could become used to his new home before they leave. Ah, pups. He would have to have them, yes, to cement this union. Castiel wishes that he could have some say in this matter, but that ship has long sailed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last filler chapter!


	7. On the edge of falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place around one and a half months after the last chapter.

Dean meets with the two Alphas in his tent, flanked by Sam, Bobby, and several other high-ranking Alphas of his Kanate. Castiel’s brothers, he thought. His mate-to-be was here, near him, and yet he was barred from seeing him, both by custom and no doubt by these lordly brothers of his. They rode in, all high and mighty in their steeds, but Imp is a great mount, and Dean rode higher.

Both Alphas was posturing now, not as hostile as their Alpha-sister, but enough to set Dean on the edge, baring his teeth at the tall, grim man and the shorter, smug-faced one. 

“Kan Dean!” The shorter man laughs, cutting the tension in the tent. “Why, you are a handsome man. A good match for _our_  baby brother.” 

“I am to be your brother by marriage,” Dean’s voice softens slightly, as he read out what Sam made him memorise. “Please, we should all sit. There is much to discuss.” Gah. The politeness is  _ killing _ him. At least Sam isn’t elbowing him for political _ misconduct _ . “But first, we  _ feast _ .” He smiles.

\----

The Bond-feast began no sooner than the day after their arrival, and Castiel still has not seen his would-be Alpha-mate-husband. His brothers has both met with the Alpha, but he did not ask about Dean. Bad luck to know too much, his Omegas told him in hushed voices, and he found himself agreeing with them. He would be their Kanah, Castiel thought. He must honor their beliefs. 

Mountains of food was passed around on the tables, mead and wine, ale and Kumis flowing as servants moved to fill each table, each plate. The cacophony of noise deafening, as thousands of voices blends into one. 

A large, tan cloak draped around his shoulders, and soft riding clothes on his back, Castiel found the Southern clothing alien upon his body. “Adapt,” he whispers to himself, picking apart a piece of honeyed cake. His brothers were dressed in the fashion of the Kanates of the South, boiled leather and wool, more suited for riding than the heavy mail they wore when warring in the West and the Midlands. 

An enormous leg of lamb, slow roasted and stuffed with herbs passes to Castiel. Despite his queasiness, Castiel does take a slice, crisp and golden around its edges and soft and pink within. It was good, but did not quell his anxiousness. 

Castiel could barely eat, and his brothers’ behaviors does not help. Seated between Lucifer and Gabriel and feeling like he is wearing everything and nothing all at once, Castiel sighs. Even Naomi, seated by Lucifer’s side, was helping herself to the honey-roasted lamb and wine-soaked beef there was little of in her household at the Eastern coasts of the Kingdom. 

Salted fish and squid hailed from the Eastern coasts was piled high and passed around in plates. Large round wheels of thick cheeses, and smaller cut choice pieces, sliced hams and cooked beef. Thick meat broths and sweet wines. This is a feast in honor for him. Despite his nervousness, something in Castiel purrs at the way he is being treated. Like a  _ prize _ . A voice in his head hisses. Like  _ treasure _ , another voice soothes him. 

“You are such a pig, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel only laughs as he stuffs roast lamb and Kumis into his mouth, the horse-milk drink the peoples of the Southern Kanates are so fond of. 

Castiel turns to Lucifer, who raises a blond eyebrow. He may be much less messy than Gabriel, but Castiel could see his other brother stuffing chicken into his mouth, more methodically.   
  


He felt queasy. Castiel has practiced his bond-dance with his Omega friends on the journey, but somehow it still feels like he had barely any notion of what to do.

He excuses himself from the feast, barely able to look at the large wooden stage he would dance upon, in full view of all the guests. His handmaidens swarms around him alongside other Omegas, as they ushered him towards a large, opulent tent prepared for this very occasion.

“Come, Kanah,” they giggle and whisper. “Come with us,” they strip his cloak off his shoulders. “You _must_ dress, it’s time for the bond-dance!”

Ah. Castiel thought, face flushing. The bond-dance. “It’s time,” he nods weakly to his Omegas. “I shall prepare.”   
  


The Omegas undress him, dabbing sweet smelling perfume on his temples, his chest, on his hands and feet. The silk cloths they drape over his body impossibly thin, and his face burns at thinking of himself, leaping and spinning, showing flashes of silk and flashes of skin. But it was the custom of the Kans. Adaption, Castiel thinks. He must adapt. Soft hands strokes the white feather etched above his hip and he smiles. Each Northern Novak has one, reminding them that they were the eagles of the North. And now he has flown South, soon to be without a flock. He stops smiling, and shakes his head. Castiel must  _ remember his place _ . It is among the Southern tribes, now. 

A slim golden chain slips around his neck, falling above his collar. His lips, usually chapped, now full and plump with paint from the red flowers, as his Omegas rubbed gold dust on the palms of his hands. 

“All the luck to you,  _ Kanah _ ,” Charlie, the sweet red haired Omega, tells him with a wide smile on her face. 

“Thank you.” Castiel whispers, smiles, and nods, pushing down his fear and- yes- even excitement. 

\-----

Castiel walks up the wooden platform, jewels strewn in his hair, white silk flowing from his shoulders, a single blue sash across his hips the only thing that hid his lower body from full view of all the guests. He feels his face burn with both pre-heat and his heart jumps to his throat as the drummers began to move.

Boom. _Thump._

All eyes was on Castiel as he stood on the wooden platform, built with imported woods and cut from the edges of the Midlands. There was nothing else he could do. It was his duty, as Kanah to Dean’s Kanate. A successful bond-dance means a fertile year for the Southlands. So he must succeed. He starts to spin like he had practiced, this time with the thrum of the drums beating through his veins. It felt different, the heat of the night soaking into his skin, his blood. This is entirely unlike all the times he had played at a mating dance. 

Boom. Boom. _Thump_.

Castiel spins and turns. He could feel a million eyes on him, his silken gown flowing upon his body, feet bare and legs exposed. This is real, and his blood flow as he spins, and turns, and turns. The nervousness at the feast almost forgotten, Castiel loses himself in the sensation of his movements. He ignores the feasting guests now staring at him, only feeling the drumbeats under his skin. 

Boom. Thump.  **Boom** -!

He spins, and lands, twirling as the fabric spins around, showing flashes of skin, his hips, his thighs, his waist. He feels eyes on him, the eyes of his future Alpha, and that of his Kanate. They would be his people, too.

Castiel quickens his pace, a frantic dance as he spins, and he feels the silence of the crowd, as the beat quickens to match him. He smiles wide. He felt the most beautiful Omega in the world, Castiel thought. On this day, on this night. So he danced. And he danced. At any other time, he would have been embarrassed. But with the early licks of heat sinking into his body, and the eyes of Alphas glued to him- he felt- he felt good. desirable.

\---

Dean finds it hard to breathe, his heart beating, echoing each boom-thump of the drums. He has witnessed many bond-dances, but none was like this one. Seated up the high tables, he had the best, clearest view of all the guests. Even the presence of Kan Roman, Dean’s hated rival, could be ignored in favor of this. The bond-dance- his Omega’s bond-dance, that would precede their mating and union, made him breathless. Dean’s Alpha growls appreciatively at the Omega’s figure, hidden from him for the many months of their betrothal. 

Boom. Thump. 

Was it the drums, or his heart? Dean could no longer tell it apart. His eyes could not be torn of the figure, dressed in blue and white. This is my Omega. He thought. The most beautiful Omega in all the Kingdoms of the world. Mine, mine, _mine_. 

He must look like an idiot,  _ grinning  _ like an idiot, eyes glued on the Omega. He could feel all the other Alphas at the feast, how they could not stop looking. They can look, he thought, but only for the bond-dance. Then, he’ll be  _ mine _ . His inner Alpha purrs at the thought of finally, finally  _ taking, having _ his Omega, and to give himself in return. 

The Omega leapt, and spun, and for a moment Dean’s breath catches in his throat, he thought the Castiel- his name is Castiel would fall and crack his head, or break his leg, and only when the Omega lands, face flushed pink and blue eyes staring right into Dean’s’ does his heart fall back into his chest.  _ Like Sapphires _ . He thinks. Damn, they were right about that. 

Boom. Boom,  **BOOM-!**

A final thump of the drums accompanied the Omega’s leap, and Dean knew that the bond-dance was over. Silence hung in the air as green eyes locks onto blue. Dean stands, and his Kan began to cheer. He feel pride bloom in his chest- good dance good Omega fertile lands- as he strode towards the stage, leaping up to meet his Omega.

“You did  _ great _ ,” Dean whispers, as he slings his arms around Castiel’s hips, lifting the smaller man until Dean is carrying the Omega on his shoulders. 

“A  _ Bedding _ !” The other Kans slams their flagons down as Dean spun Castiel around and around, soaking in the Omega’s clean scent and hints of honey that spells out the beginnings of a heat. 

“Bedding! Bedding! BED-ING!” 

Dean laughs as the shouts grew louder, the guests of the Kanates joining in their jubilance. 

The shouts become a roar as his people cheer him on, his Omega on his shoulders as Dean ran towards the largest tent, a great monstrosity that would tower over his own Kan-tent. Kana-Manuk was no small city, and the enormous empty space by the Stallion and his temple housed their guests and the large bedding tent. His brother follows, along with his Alpha-seconds, and the other Kans and their seconds, giving chase as the Alpha pounded down the clearing, kicking up dust as he held the Omega close. 

The Kanates flow down from their tables, chairs overturned and food flying as they attempted to chase Dean, to catch them both and strip and throw them in their nest. If Dean ran to his nest without being caught, it would tell all the other Kans and their Kanates of his strength as an Alpha, as a protector, as a Kan. So he laughs again, blood pumping and roaring at the increasingly sweet heat-scent of his Omega.  _ His his his _ . 

“Catch me if you can!” Dean yells back at the chasing crowd, steadying his Omega on his shoulders, letting Castiel ride upon his back instead of being carried like a sack. “Catch _ us _ if you can!” He hears his Omega shout and laugh, and Dean can’t help but laugh again, thinking of how lucky he is, on this day, on this night, to be wed to his Kanah who gave a bond-dance that would bring luck upon his tribe, his Kanate, this beautiful Omega with the sweetest scent. 

Dean throws open the heavy curtains of the tent, falling into the warm embrace of their nest with his Omega, wheezing with laughter and blood pumping from the chase. 

He throws Castiel down on their nest, a great pile of cloth and cushions piled high, and falls in beside him, bringing the Omega’s hand into a tight grip in his own. He has sweet hands, Dean thought, and beautiful eyes. Gods be damned, but Dean thinks he might be falling for this Omega of his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited this chapter several times but could never get it to fully fit my mental image. Ah, well. It's basically an acrobatic performance to the beat of those drums that gives a really deep brass beat you can actually feel. Not sure how I can describe it, but it's based off a drum show I've seen a few years ago.  
> The Alpha running with the Omega is meant to show that their strength and stamina and stuff. Not sure if I showed it clearly though.


	8. Lovin' the heat

Castiel feels himself, still breathless from the bond-dance, flung down onto a mating-nest of soft cotton and sweet colored silks, far from the yells of bedding, the roar of the ceremony and feast and chase distant murmur in the background, the ones chasing them must have left once Dean breached the tent,  _ their nest _ .

Heart still pumping wildly, Castiel sighs as he falls deeper into the cocoon of soft blankets and plump, stuffed cushions. The nest satiates his instincts, the deep need for safety satisfied, Castiel felt a different, urgent  _ need _ . Knowing that this Alpha,  _ his _ Alpha could keep them  _ safe _ , outrun others and fight for  _ him _ \- that stirs up something wild and  _ primal _ in him. 

“Hey,” the leather-clad Alpha bends over him, weaving a hand in Castiel’s hair. “I’m Dean.” His eyes are green and freckles dots his nose and face. He smells like grass and burning wood and desire, and Castiel feels his knees go weak and slick leak out of him, the pale white cloth barely covering his thighs. 

“Alpha- Dean, _ need you _ -” he pants, hands tugging at Dean’s clasps, clumsily attempting to undo the Kan’s ceremonial cloak. The Alpha’s eyes darken at Castiel’s whine, and he leans down, teeth grazing at the side of Castiel’s neck. He tilts his head, showing his submission. 

“Cas- can I call you Cas?” Dean asks, and Castiel growls-  _ why _ is this man still speaking full sentences- and grabs at his trousers, feeling for the knot that will fill him up and soothe the deep ache building in him. 

“ _ Yes _ .” Castiel growls again when his hand is batted away, and he bares his neck once more. 

“ _ Good _ .” A sudden cool rush of air hits his heated skin as Dean rips off the remains of white silk robes, leaving Castiel bare. Strong arms lift him up and Castiel purrs as Dean turns him over and presses his pliant body, wet with need, face down into their nest. Warm lips and stubble brushes above his hips. 

Castiel cants his hips, blushing as Dean licks a stripe across his mark, a white feather etched onto skin, one each true-born Northern Novak has. “I- gotta ask you ‘bout that.” The Alpha, voice heavy with lust, is still making full sentences. Castiel whines again, the heat pushing his conscious mind away, the  _ want _ in him making his body feel so, so  _ empty _ .

But it wasn’t the blunt head of Dean’s length pressing against Castiel’s slick hole. 

“Whu-  _ what _ -” Castiel gasps as the Alpha licks a wet stripe across his hole, leaving him shivering, writhing for _ more _ \- he- his tongue is  _ there _ , and Castiel couldn’t help but push back,  _ keening _ , hands clenching the fabric of the blankets and cushions. 

Castiel is still loose limbed and writhing when Dean pulls away, a low whine building at the base of this throat when the Alpha’s length, long and hard and  _ hot, pushes _ into his body, strong hands gripping tight onto his hips. Castiel moans into the pillows, babbling loudly- oh, the hole in him, the ache of need  _ finally _ soothed-

“A-ah-” he can only make soft mewls as the Alpha beings to push-and-pull, thrusting into him, nipping slightly on the skin of his neck. There is nothing else in this world that matters, ‘part from the red-hot  _ heat _ where they were joined together, deep and piercing-

Dean-  _ Gods _ ,  _ turns  _ him, still  _ impaled _ , knot beginning to catch and Castiel whines, screams as he reaches his release, untouched, seeing stars. “Dean Dean  _ Dean please _ \-  _ mate me _ -” he’s babbling now, neck still bare, unmarked as Dean finally,  _ finally _ closes his mouth and bites him deep. The pain of mating and the flush of satisfaction brings Castiel over the edge again, arms gripping tightly against the Alpha’s shoulders. Warm heat floods his body as the Alpha releases into him, a strange full feeling as the knot locks him in, Castiel wrapping his legs tightly around his mate’s waist as the comfort of  _ finally _ being filled sates his heat-addled mind. 

He has a knot in him and a bite on his neck. This is  _ final _ now, he _belongs_ to Dean Winchester and his tribe. Dean, he thinks, is a considerate lover, Castiel nuzzles his cheek against the other man, and an attractive one, too. Castiel thinks that it would be far too  _ easy _ to learn to love this man. It’s too early to think of love, Castiel tells himself. But if they are compatible in  _ this _ , and can get along in the light of day, then this ordered marriage _ could _ be a good one. 

Castiel closes his eyes and rests his head against the shoulder of this man. This warlord.  _ My  _ warlord now, he thinks and a small, tired smile tugs at his lips. He has been good to Castiel, in the short hours they have met and mated. But Castiel needs to be careful and guard his heart. “My body is yours,” he grins against Winchester’s shoulder and shifts around, letting the knot sink impossibly deep into his body as the Alpha stifled a moan. “I can’t give in  _ that _ easily.” He tells the Alpha. “You must  _ win  _ my heart from me.” 

Green eyes open in the dim light. “Cheeky.” Dean presses a kiss to Castiel’s jaw. “I  _ will _ .” A deep, happy voice. Soft lips against Castiel’s forehead. He sighs, and slides into a deep sleep.

\----

Dean wakes again, only hours later, still groggy from sleep, knot loosening inside the Omega, cock still hard and straining. He groans. Cas’s enticing scent- Gods, his  _ scent _ \- all over him, it’s hard to not try and fuck him raw all over again. 

Blue eyes blink open and locks onto his. Dean smiles, pressing a kiss to swollen pink lips as he shifts his hips slightly, unwilling to leave the warm, tight head of Cas’s body- “my mate.” Dean growls against Cas’s ear. “ _ My Cas _ .” His Omega purrs at Dean’s show of dominance. 

The urge to take, to mark remains, dulled down to a warm haze. The mark on Cas’s neck showing Dean that the Omega is  _ his _ , quelling his urge to fuck hard and bite harder. “ _ Mine _ .” He pulls out slightly and pushes in again, eliciting a soft moan that nearly sends him over the edge again. 

He pushes in, lazy, shallow thrusts, their connection sending a flood of warmth into his chest. In the dim light of the bonfires lit outside the tent, Dean could see the shape of Cas’s jaw and neck, the dip in his collar that Dean licks at and kisses, his lithe body pliant and open for him to plunder. He presses a hand on the other man’s chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. 

“I want this,” Dean quickens his pace, hand reaching between them to stroke at Cas’s cock, making the Omega  _ squirm _ and clench down on him, still sensitive from his earlier release. The tight grip of the Omega’s body quickly disarming Dean as well, as he gave in, pushing in as far as he could, closing his eyes as stars burst behind them, leaving Dean dizzy in the light. His knot catches once more and Dean collapses in a heap on top of the Omega. He shifts them, careful not to cause too much pain, leaving their legs entwined, lying on their sides. 

“I want _you_.” He tells Castiel, and means it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, finally. It's always been harder for me to write smutty scenes, but I think this one came out pretty well.


	9. There is only you

Dean grins as he led a red-faced Castiel out of the tent to knowing smirks and slaps on his back from his men. Even his mate’s Alpha siblings’ presence could not dampen his mood.

“What’s your Northern rituals like?” Dean slings an arm around his blushing mate, thumbing at smooth, pale shoulders. “We gotta do both,” he scents Cas quickly, and notices the two Alpha Novaks wrinkling their noses. Ah, scenting a sibling’s heat. He’s gone through that with Adam, and  _ boy _ , that boy was  _ rancid _ when in heat. Castiel places his head against Dean’s shoulder. 

“You don’t know?” The shorter guy- Gabriel- sneers. Smarmy bastard. But he is Cas’s brother. The taller one- Lucifer rolls his eyes. 

“Well,” Dean rubs his chin. “Cas was  _ too busy _ last night to tell me-” Ow. The Omega pinches him on his waist, hard. Dean bets that his face is all cute and red and all that. His mate’s Alpha brothers growl at him, a warning- but a friendly one, and he growls back. This one is  _ mine _ now, he wants this message to get through to them. 

\----

The thin red rope winds around their hands, lacing them together from palm to palm. Wide blue eyes- very blue, so fucking blue that Dean has no idea how to describe them- stare into his as their hands are bound, small bells attached to each end, making a tinkling sound as they walked, decked out in ceremonial garb once more.

Less lively than the feast the Kanates held to celebrate a bond, Dean thinks. But it feels more private, more intimate only having him and Castiel, and a select few they were close to- Cas’s brothers, Sam and Bobby, Ellen and Jo and Cas’s Omega friends. 

“Shall we?” Cas’s voice is low, deep, more so than the soft voices of the Omegas in his Kanate. Dean likes it. He likes it a lot. He leans over, pressing a kiss to parted lips. 

The room of the inn was prepared like an altar, though not one that Dean has ever seen. Cas has a sad look about him, and though he’s been called thick-minded, Dean can tell that his mate knows this would be the last time he has in a prayer-room that caters to _ his  _ faith. The others leave them, waiting outside the inn. The Northerners treat their vows as a private, sacred affair. 

“Do you, Dean Winchester of the Winchester Kanate, Alpha-Kan of the Great Grasslands and Lord of the South, vow to take Castiel Novak, brother of Lord Michael, son of the Northern Winterlands and Omega of House Novak to be your mate?” 

“Yes.” Dean says, loud and sure. 

“Do you, Castiel Novak, vow to take Dean Winchester to be your mate?” The officiator that had accompanied Castiel’s guard asks, voice loud in the silent room. 

“Yes.” Cas’s voice is equally sure, and Dean smiles. The rope that binds them together is tight and cuts into their skin. This unbreakable link, Dean thinks. 

“Do you both vow to do your duty, honor your Lordships, and care for the other, for this life and the next?”

“In this life and the next, I do swear.” Dean takes the vows at the same time. They smile at each other, and Dean feels something warm and happy bubble up in his chest. 

\----

When they were finally alone again, Cas pushes Dean down, no longer in the mating tent set for the bond-fest, but in Dean’s own, smaller and sturdier, his bed of skins and cloth large and warm. 

“Alpha.” He bares his neck, and Dean can tell by the Omega’s parted lips and slight pants that his heat is flaring up again, and that sends a sharp jolt of arousal into his loins. The bite mark still red and sharp, it tells the world that Cas is  _ Dean’s _ . 

“In this life and the next..” Cas nips at his ear, whispering their vows, eyes hooded and gazing down at Dean through dark lashes. The heavy leathers and furs, held by bronze chains smothers his body. He  _ needs _ to get out of those. 

The Omega’s deft, long fingers work at the clasps on their cloaks, sitting back on Dean’s lap-  _ fuck- grinding _ down- 

“Fuck- Cas-” Dean pants, pawing at his mate’s white robes, he looks so damn  _ beautiful _ all dressed in white, so pure Dean wants to pull him down from the heavens and taint him with ungodly touches, wants to see white robes ruined and blue eyes wide with lust, but only for _ him _ , only for Dean. “Mine.” Dean growls. “Only I- ah- can see you like  _ this _ -” 

“Only you, Dean, only _ you _ -” It sounds like Cas’s heat-lust talking. When Dean takes his mate without the heat, Dean would make him make those sounds, too- just  _ for him _ , just because of Dean.

Their robes, finally discarded, lay in a heap at their feet. Cas’s pale, body, hip bones slightly jutting, long legs and flat stomach, slick leaking and sweetening the air makes Dean’s mouth go all dry, all the blood in his body rushing towards his cock, still trapped in his breeches. Cas leans in once more, slick soaking through cloth,  _ right onto _ Dean’s cock- “ _ Fuck _ !” Dean yells at the sudden friction makes him thrust up-

He reaches down, ripping the ruined cloth from his body, hands gripping at Castiel’s hips, leaving dark bruises on soft flesh, grinding him down until Dean’s cock finds his entrance, and pushes up,  _ up _ into tight heat. Dean thinks that somehow Cas’s heat must’ve passed on to him, he can feel lust seizing his mind, their scents mingling and smelling like want, need,  _ love _ -

Dean rocks up into his mate’s body, sweet heat gripping his cock, clinging to him, pulling him deeper and deeper. Nothing matters part from their shared heat, their point of connection, the soft moans each time Dean shifts himself inside Cas. He reaches up, pulling the other man down, licking at his lips, kissing that sweet mouth, pink lips. 

“Dean- I  _ need _ -” low, desperate voice. Dean’s grip tightens as he grounds into Castiel, not giving into the need to quick, violent thrusts. He could hear it in Cas’s voice and feel it in the slow build of heat at the base of his cock that they would not last much longer. He reaches between them, slicking up Cas’s cock with his slick until he comes with a cut-off cry, tense and clenching around Dean, knees squeezing hard at Dean’s thighs.

Dean reaches his own release then, white hot heat behind his eyes as his knot pops, locking them in place, his mind completely cut off by the blinding pleasure. “Gods, Cas- Gods, you are-” he pants, letting Cas fall all over him, hands stroking through soft dark hair as his Omega buries his head by Dean’s shoulders, purring softly in hazy pleasure. 


	10. This Oath I do swear

The flurry of activities he was caught in- getting to know the Kan’s brother and advisors, meeting the members of the ‘court,’ mainly made up of Sam and Bobby and several other Alphas, learning to keep track of the comings and goings of the Kanates as they left Kana-Manuk is...difficult, when Castiel is attempting to adapt to his foreign husband and his foreign customs.

He sighs. “Get yourself together, Castiel,” he tells himself, rubbing his neck. The mating bite still throbbed beneath his fingertips. The heavy wool and furs of the North could not be worn here in the warm, wet South, so Castiel has adapted, changed into the leathers and cloth of Southern riders, dark leathers and a white cloak that reminded him of the fresh-fallen snow he would never see again.

Dean stays close with him often, but Castiel knows that his mate is Kan, and always busy with something or another, or walking down the wild mess that is the great tent-cities his tribe sets up, an arm around some friend or another, laughter on his lips. Castiel wishes that he could warm up to others as quickly as Dean Winchester seems to. Sam seems to like him enough, and Bobby is gruff but warm.

The heat of the South irritates him, makes Castiel ansty and snappy. He really needs to get a hold of himself. A flurry of Omega and female Beta attendants caters to his needs and whispers jokes in his ear, but Castiel is still struck by the sharp loneliness he feels without his mate by his side. Even his brothers do little but remind him that there has been a home he has lost. Castiel looks down again at the sheepskin parchment, detailing the costs of spices and skins, cloth for tents and clothing, honey for the Kanate to consume, the trading of trinkets and jewels-

He is their Kanah, and managing such household costs was his responsibility, but it’s far more than what he had done back home- back in the North, Castiel reminds himself again. Home is here now. With Winchester. With _Dean_. But is this truly a home, he thinks to himself, if they never stay in one place for more than a month.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean’s voice cuts Castiel from his thoughts, a most welcome gesture, even if Dean does not know it. He plops down, limbs getting all into Castiel’s space, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek. Castiel feels himself reddening. Dean is...incredibly affectionate, different from his own reservedness. To his own surprise, he finds the constant attention endearing.

“Hey, Dean.” He replies, shifting closer so their shoulders brush against one another. Taking comfort in the touch of another is a basic instinct, Castiel thinks, and he takes great comfort from his mate’s touch, their mixed scent evoking a deep sense of home and belonging. “I miss you,” he sighs, giving word to his thoughts.

“Yeah, me too,” Dean’s hands were on him, slipping behind his back, dragging his fingers softly across Castiel’s hip. “I’ve been meaning to ask, uh, about this- about it, I mean,” his mates stumbles across his words from time to time. But only with those close to him. Amongst others he plays the confident, dangerous warlord. Castiel likes being close to Dean, enough for his mate to let down his guard around him.

“It’s my mark- one for each of my direct family. House Novak.”

“All of them on there- you know?” Dean raises an eyebrow. Castiel knows what he’s thinking. The mark by his hip is an intimate place, but he chose it himself. He shakes his head and smiles.

“We all choose ours. I...I asked for it to be placed somewhere more private.”

“I like it.” Dean grins, green eyes lighting up with his smile. “It suits you. White feather, and you’re all...you know, pure and stuff.” He falters a little.

“And stuff?” Castiel couldn’t help but tease his Alpha a little. Dean is a good man- and kind to him. It’s easy to grow fond of him, and he is a solid, consistent companion even as they moved from place to place.

“I got a gift for you.” Dean changes the topic rapidly, pulling out a small chain of stones, fastened together by thick rope and silver chains. “Sapphires I got from this place.” He clasps the chain around Castiel’s wrist, the sapphire glowing blue against pale skin. Dean holds his hand in his, bringing it up for a soft kiss on the stone and another, on the back of his hand. “Reminds me of your eyes.”

“It’s for protection, too.” Castiel replies, voice soft and heart warm. “It’s beautiful.”

Dean smiles again, pulling him closer, so much so that Castiel is leaning his entire weight against Dean. And he just holds him, like he is holding the world in his arms.

“I want to know you a lil’ more,” Dean asks, breaking the soft silence between them. “You know all about me- my family, Sam, Bobby,” Dean had talked and talked when they were together, about his childhood in the grasslands, traveling from pasture to pasture, about raising Sam when their father warred and drank, about offering his sword for sale as he made his way North across the Kingdom, about becoming Kan and how hard managing the Kanate was. “I just want you to talk to me, y’know.” He looks down, suddenly shy. Castiel rests his head on Dean’s shoulder.

So Castiel did. About how he grew up raised by Michael and Lucifer since their father often warred for the King, ever since their grandfather, who was Lord of the North, raised the arms of the North. How the civil war tore the Northlands into two until his grandfather was captured. How their father had died barely two years later, two-and-ten years ago, fighting off some Western upstart or another, when Castiel was twelve.

“‘m sorry that happened to you-” Dean starts, so Castiel cuts him off with a peck to the lips. “Those events, regretful as they were, brought me to you.” He whispers. “I’m glad for that.” 

“I’m glad, too.” Dean whispers back.

“I miss him still, my father.” Castiel tells Dean of the kind man with dark hair and blue eyes just like his. “He was always kind to me, when he was home.”

“But he wasn’t always at home.” Castiel shakes his head. It was something he shares with Dean, the absent, warring father.

“My father..” Castiel’s voice falters. “Had always promised me to come back. Every time he went to fight, he promised. Until he did not.”

“Never promise what you can’t keep.” Dean’s voice is soft, kind. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Castiel smiles, looking up at Dean, feeling his eyes well up with tears. When had he started crying? A calloused thumb wipes away the teardrops gathering on his cheek. “You swear?”

“I swear.” Dean kisses him on his forehead, a comforting gesture. Castiel leans into his mate’s touch. The grasslands would never be home like the North is. Perhaps _Dean_ would be his home.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tenth chapter! This fic still has a long way to go, though, so there's a big journey ahead! I have many, many things planned ;)
> 
> This Dean is a real gentleman to Cas, they were both raised as Nobles, though the South is considered to be more 'uncivilized' than the North. Sam's a bit of an anomaly, since he's well versed in politics and law and stuff like that. We'll see the warlord side of Dean pretty soon.
> 
> Age of characters: Cas here is 24, since he was 12 when his father died, and 10 at the time of the rebellion(short but bloody civil war, mostly fought in the North). Dean is around 26-28, so they're pretty similar in ages.


	11. The waiting game

Dean knows that Castiel misses his home. He thinks that if he was sent far North, away from his plains and into Castiel’s rocky mountain home, he would yearn for the loss of the freedom of galloping horses and fresh wind in his hair.

He feels something for his mate, more than their frenzied love-making or slow burning nights, he thinks. 

Cas is quick to learn the ways of the Kanate, ever moving to greener pastures. He makes fast friends with Sam, pouring over records and showing Dean’s brother the chest of old, bound books from the Northern libraries that has Sam’s face light up like his name-day has come early. Gods, they even get excited over old records of trade and taxes, local laws and customs. 

He likes his gift, too, and Dean would often find Cas brushing Connie’s silky coat, feeding her or letting the guards walk her.

“Can you ride?” Dean walks up to his mate, the easy conversation between Cas and the guards telling him that his Kanate has accepted his foreign Kanah. The old King has done him a great favor in wedding Castiel to him, even if it was an act of spite against his mate’s family. 

Cas shakes his head, still petting Connie, feeding her licks of salt and slices of apple with his hand. “I’ve always traveled by carriage. Noble Omegas do not learn to ride- I have when I was unpresented, but..” he trails off. 

“They do here,” Dean tells him, leading Connie away by her reins. For most Southerners, reins and saddles are only used for children training in riding, and are only made for young horses. He got those from the destriers brought by the Northmen. “I’ll teach you.”

Cas sits unsure, awkward on the saddle. Dean brings Imp over, the large black Stallion snorting loudly as Dean seats himself, taking Connie’s reins in his hands. He would ride with Cas, but the pressure of two is too much for any steed, even Imp, larger and stronger than the other Stallions of the great stables far and wide. 

They ride slow, Cas shifting, unsure in the saddle as Dean led them both. He is unused to riding at a leisurely pace, but this is good. He quickens their pace as they left the tent city, letting Castiel take Connie’s reins as they rode onwards. They were near the great river, the roaring waters that cleaves the South, winding into the North and flowing into the vast oceans beyond. It’s a breathtaking sight, and Dean wants to share that with Cas. 

It does take his breath away. Cas looks good like that, with eyes wide and lips parted, glowing with awe at the roaring waters, so wide that no end could be seen. 

“This...Dean, this is amazing.” 

Dean leads Cas off Connie, carrying him down in his arms. They let the horses graze by the river. He remembers something the Omega told him in the haze of their mating. “Have I won your heart yet?” Dean asks, pressing his lips against their mating bite, the howling water of the great Southern river almost drowning out their voices. 

“I think you may have.” Castiel leans back, settling into Dean’s arms.

“Good.” Dean grins, holding his mate closer to him. 

\-----

They were raiding. Castiel has heard of war, read of war, knew that his brothers and sisters has warred. But he had never felt the closeness of battle, known of the visceral reality that is it’s clangs and roars and shouts. Not until now. The loud clangs of swords and whinnying of horses penetrates the thick wall of the tent, and Castiel could see the shadows of armed guards. They were further from the great river now, Southbound towards warmer lands and pasture lands left unclaimed for many months, ripe for the picking, inciting skirmishes and battles between Kanates as they fought for the right to graze. 

Dean is always at the forefront of the fighting, whether they were raiding other Kanates or if some bold enough attempted to raid them. The Alphas were all out raiding, leaving Betas guarding the old, the young, and Omegas like him. Castiel looks down on his hands, pale and fine, not knowing of swords or bows part from the few times his brothers and sisters let him loose an arrow in the comfort of training rooms. 

He is not at the frontlines, Castiel knows that, but somehow he could still scent the tang of blood, the ‘whoosh’ sound of arrows more frightening than ever. Even his brothers had left, joining in the fray. “They’ll never give us respect if we do not fight.” Lucifer told him, bowing and leaving. Even his brothers bow to him now, and that thought made Castiel feel more alone than ever. For once, Gabriel did not contradict their elder brother, nodding and leaving as well. Leaving him. 

He knows this is Dean’s duty- a Kan’s duty, and Dean told him that doing battle is one thing that he is good at, that he takes pride in- but still, Castiel fears, and he pushes down that fear deep inside, enough so that it does not bleed through his scent. His mate should not return to the stink of fear and panic. He grabs at his wrist, and at Dean’s gift. It reminds him of Dean, pressing his lips to the back of Castiel’s hand as he clasped it around his wrist. Dean, taking Castiel riding, holding him in his arms as the waters of the great river seemed to wash away all the worries in the world.

_ I just have to keep holding on _ . Castiel tells himself. He needs to get used to this- the long hours without his friends, his brothers or his mate. The smell of blood and the background cacophony of horses and swords. Dean will always be back. He had promised Castiel.    
Another man had made that same promise once. “It’s different.” Castiel says aloud. “He has to come back. He _ has to _ .” 


	12. I wanna close the gap(between you and me)

“Cas,” Dean breathes, blood still hot from battle. “ _ Cas _ .” He murmurs, taking his mate, his Omega, his Kanah into his arms, feeling the lithe body pressing against his own. 

“Dean…” Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders, pressing close, and Dean knows that the Omega missed his presence. The heat of the raid, raining arrows and the slice of metal into flesh, the sweet tang of blood covering all other scents, cries of battle and the clash of arms- it is what he loves, what Dean is good at, but this- coming back to his mate- this is good, too- this he also loves. 

Wetness by his shoulder jolts Dean out of the bloodlust he had been in- a successful raid always riles his inner Alpha, making him see red, feel all antsy and _wanting_ to move, to fight and to fuck-

Cas shakes against him, and his scent- a lingering smell of panicking Omega kills any lusty thoughts in Dean’s mind. “Shh, Cas, you all right?” He threads his hands through thick dark hair, stroking his mate across his scalp and down the back of his neck. Cas responds by tightening his arms around Dean, so he lets him hold on, wrapping his other arm across the Omega’s back. 

Dean takes comfort, too, in their shared scent.

“You wanna tell me what that’s about?” Dean asks, when Cas’s shakes stop and he slumps in Dean’s arms, still clinging, but calmer now. His mate shakes his head, so Dean pushes all the questions he wants to ask back down. He’ll push later, but not now- damn, it was Cas’s first time in a raid, and Dean left him with strange guards by the tent, and went off to fight after promising not to die or leave him like his old man did- Dean opens his mouth, to say something, but blue eyes meets his and Cas smiles at him, so he pushes those words down, too. 

“Is there any wounded?” Cas asks, suddenly. 

“Uh, yeah,” Dean steps away a little, so he could place an arm around Cas’s shoulders. “There’s always gonna be people. Getting hurt. It’s a battle.” And people would die, too. It’s always easier to not think about this in the heat of the battle, where his blood seems to sing at every clash of blades and all his senses were heightened, the only thing on his mind is to survive and to  _ cut the other man down _ . 

“Where do they keep the injured soldiers?” Cas asks. “I can help.”

“You  _ can _ ? Are you sure- Cas, you’re-” Dean knows some basics from being on the field in battles. It’s harder to believe that a noble Omega would have much experience- though if he pairs him with some of the more experienced healers-

“In the civil war- they needed all the help, so I tended the wounds of the soldiers- I _know what to do_ , Dean.” 

Dean nods and takes Cas down to the sick-tents set up for those hurt in battle. He could beckon some guards to stay with Castiel- no, Dean should stay with him, see what Cas can do.

\----

Cas, wearing one of the practical robes of the healers, looks just like one of them, face all serious and hands working fast to stitch wounds, tie bandages- like he is falling into an old role, long in the past but not gone in his mind. How young would he be, if he was helping healers in the Northern civil war? 

The split in the tent lets sunlight in, covering Cas in a shroud of gold.  _ He looks beautiful _ , Dean thinks, still staring, not caring that some of his soldiers are staring at him now, just standing there, stupidly- not doing his usual rounds of helping- he helps too, just not as good as Cas is. His mate whispers something to one soldier

He has a beautiful soul. Dean can feel his mouth go dry as he stares. Castiel is more beautiful here, now, being a healer and offering comfort to those touched by the hands of war than he had been, even under the trance of Omega heat. It’s more than just physical beauty- Dean has _ seen  _ glimpses of this Cas, when he laughs with Sam over some old papers or another, or talking with his brothers.

Yeah, he’s fucked. Dean winces, and tries to turn away, but he couldn’t. Falling a lot faster and a lot harder than he ever thought he would be able to, for someone ordered to wed him and leave his family, his home. Would Cas want the same as Dean, or is he just...dealing? Dean steps away from his thoughts, knowing they will return. He steps away from the tent, knowing that Cas will take good care of the sick. 

\----

“Dean.” Dean wakes from his dreams in a cold sweat- a confusing one, but frightening. Sam was by his side, but Cas wasn’t- he wades into water, face covered in black lines, a sad look clinging to his soul. Then he steps in, and the water goes black, and something inside Dean _tears apart_ at that-

“Dean!” Sam shakes at him, frowning. “You’re shaking.”

“‘s fine, Sammy.” Dean presses a hand to his temple, head still aching, Cas in his dreams with his sad haunted eyes, turning away from Dean and into flowing water- if Dean closes his eyes, he can still see it, and the lingering dream leaves a bad taste in his mouth.  “Jus’ a bad dream. That’s all.” 

“You sure?” His brother sits by him, and Dean notices that he’s fallen asleep by the planning table once more. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Dean doesn’t tell Sam about his dreams- it’s always the same one, Cas walking into water. Perhaps he shouldn’t have taken him to see the river. “I’ll be fine.”

Sam nods, still frowning. Dean knows he’ll get a lecture soon- it’s Sam, he always likes to scold Dean about not taking care of himself, or something. 

“I saw Cas by the sick-tents,” Sam tells him, “they like him- the soldiers, they say he’s kind.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” Sam relaxes. “That’s a good thing- it means he’s mingling. _Fitting in_. Here, with _us_.” Dean feels a sudden stab of envy that Sam and Cas has more in common than he and Cas did- they both love reading and books and-

“That’s good. That’s great.” Dean cuts himself off, clapping his brother on the back. “C’mon, lets go see what we can do t’ help.” 


	13. Under the stars(this moment could last forever)

Castiel knew that Lucifer had to leave early, but he hopes that his brother could stay a little longer.

“Stay, brother, until the great feast is over?”  

“The great feast? For what?” His brother asks, frowning. Castiel holds in his sigh. He has already kept his brothers here for too long, and he knows they miss the North. 

“It’s going to be summer- it’s a feast for a new year, brother.” 

“Isn’t the New Winter feast months away?” Gabriel pushes in between Castiel and Lucifer, ruffling their hair, biting a stick of rock-honey in his mouth.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth, Gabriel.” They both scold. Castiel knows that it would have no effect of Gabriel- he is just  _ like that _ . Frustrating, but still a good brother. 

“The Southerners begin a new year with a ‘New Summer’ feast, Gabriel.” Lucifer frowns. “I thought you’d have known that.” 

“Eh. I’m not bookish like you or lil’ Cassie.” Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Hey Cassie, least you can have your name-day away from the New Year Feast.” 

Castiel sighs. Born two days prior to the New Winter Feast, his name-day was always overshadowed by the celebrations. Here, the New Summer Feast is months apart from his name-day- perhaps he could throw a small feast for himself, he entertains that thought for a moment. “I need to organize all the activities- Sam says he’s got the food and drink covered, but-”

“I can jest, _I know_ how to Jest-”

“If you even  _ think _ about it, I’ll shove my sword right up-”

“ _ No _ jesting, Gabriel-” Castiel’s eye twitches, thinking of the time Gabriel threw food at the Noble guests- the city folk had a good laugh, but his father was furious for  _ weeks _ . 

“Fine, fine,” his brother laughs, and so does Castiel. Despite their differences, it’s always good to have his brothers with him, even if they would have to leave eventually- and then he would truly, truly belong to the South, no longer a son of the North, no longer a son of Winter. 

\----

The New Summer Feast goes better than Castiel has anticipated, though Sam tells him it’s just nerves. 

  
“See?” Sam whispers, seating himself by Castiel’s side, waving his arm at the jesters and carnies Castiel has managed to procure from a traveling band that happened to be going through Kana-manuk when the Kanate was passing through once more. Castiel had wanted to map their travels, but the true size and scale of the South makes it difficult- as does the size of the Kanate, with multiple offshoots that travel with them, sometimes days or even weeks behind on the march, as well as the main horde that sticks to Dean, Sam, Castiel and his brothers. “It’s all good. I told you it’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, Sam.” Castiel nudges his friend. “I guess I was just nervous.” 

Sam smiles and hands him a jar of kumis. Castiel has come to enjoy the slightly salty drink, though he still prefers the warm mulled wines Sam has prepared as well. 

Dean comes between them, shoving playfully at Sam, who rolls his eyes. Castiel grins at them. Ah, brothers. Dean is his mate and Sam a good friend. He is glad to find people like them in his new home. This is not what he had expected, when he first heard of the King’s orders. But he likes this- these new people, and they are becoming like a new family for him, even if he had to leave his old home to find them. 

The children of the Kanate dart from table to table, some tugging at a dangling jewel or another on his robes, and Castiel pats their heads and send them off. Large plates of Southern fare, large roasts of mutton and leg-of-lamb, beef stew and pies, sweet honey, hardened by fire and wrapped around wooden sticks that Gabriel favours, small choice cuts of lamb reserved for himself and Dean. The sticky summer air and the smell of burning wood. Cups of honey wine that seems to be refilling themselves. Dean meets his eyes and smiling, moving a hand up Castiel’s thigh. 

Castiel feels a secret thrill as he and Dean excuses themselves, disappearing from the roaring, drunken crowd, wine flowing through their veins as Dean grabs his hands, threading their fingers together as they snuck off under the stars. 

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean mouths at Castiel’s mating bite, green eyes bearing into his own. Castiel finds himself falling all over Dean, it must have been the wine and kumis, burning across his veins and lighting a fire in his heart. “Lets get outta here.” He whispers. 

“Yes.” Castiel tilts his head, voice low with lust. It must be the summer air doing this to him. 

They lose themselves in the crowd, who gave them no notice. They were all drunk on the sweet scent of summer. Dean’s hand firmly around Castiel’s wrist, they found a secluded spot underneath the stars, the crowds at the Feast a distant murmur. Dean picks him up by the waist, spinning Castiel around before setting him down on the soft grass. 

“I think…” Castiel leans forwards, capturing Dean’s lips. “I think I like you.” This is as much as he could give, but each day he gives a little more of himself. 

“I..” Dean strokes his hair, his grassy scent mingling with Castiel’s. “I like you, uh- I like you, too.” He smiles, and Castiel finds himself falling faster. He leans back, letting Dean take control. His mate.  _ His _ Alpha. 

Roaming hands slides up his back, untying the knots of his robes, warm summer air brushing against exposed skin. Dean kisses him, they press their lips, together, sharing heated honey with their mouths. Castiel brings his hand up, stroking the back of Dean’s neck, bringing him closer, not caring if they run out of breath. Dean presses his palm against his other hand, threading their fingers together. Green fire burns in his eyes as he looks into Castiel’s eyes. 

Oh, he would give his life for this sweet night to last forever.   
  



	14. The beat of the war drums

With the feast and celebrations over, Castiel knows he has to part with one of his brothers- it is difficult to think about, they’ve been his companions for many months of his marriage, and though he has had no inklings of pups yet, Castiel could feel a slight twinge in his belly- perhaps this time- his face heats up at the thought of the night of the feast.

They rode out, since Castiel knows enough about riding to keep up with the outgoing party, with his own guards trailing behind him. “I’ll come visit,” Lucifer tells him, slowing his horse down so he could travel side-by-side with Castiel. “But I do have to leave.”

Castiel nods. He knows that Michael has been sending letters asking for Lucifer to return to the North. From what he knows, there has been trouble brewing between the North and the Western lands, and that the old King seems happy to fan such fires. “Michael needs you- the North needs you back to man the armies. I understand.”  

Still, he does not want his brother to leave- call him selfish, but it is difficult to let go of one of the last remaining reminders of his Northern family.

The tall summer grasses sway in the wind, attracting buzzing insects and colorful butterflies. The beauty of the south grows on him- the great plains and rolling hills, the great river that feeds all, the green grass and deep blue skies, stretching overhead with no end in sight. Castiel smiles, nudging Connie so she can keep up with the others.

They were nearing the small woods, the first sign that the Southlands were meeting with the Midlands- Dean has brought the Kanate close to the borders, close enough that Castiel could ride with his brothers into the Midlands before returning. Even through the thick leaves, the sunlight hits the ground, turning the fallen leaves into shining gold. He should thank Dean for letting him have this.

Castiel barely noticed anything out of place when the first arrow hit, and one of his guards falls to the ground with a soft, dying grunt.

“ _Castiel_!” His brother grabs him by the arm and he feels himself pulled off Connie and onto the destrier- out of the once-peaceful shadows of the woods come the sounds of war- horses whinnying, hooves stamping on the ground. His brother’s sword unsheathed as he tells Castiel to keep quiet and stay close. The guards rides around them, encircling Castiel in a circle of protection. He could tell by their hushed voices and his brother’s grim expression that they were outnumbered by the shadows in the woods, riding around them in circles.

Castiel feels his heart pound in his chest, booming against his ribs. He clutches on to Lucifer’s sleeve. “Wh- what now, _brother_ -” he asks.

“We want Winchester’s Omega whore!” An arrogant voice calls out, enveloped by shadows. "Give 'em over, and we'll let you all live!"

“You dare dishonor our-” one of Castiel’s guards shouts back, and his hand flies to his mouth in disbelief when another arrow cuts through the air, hitting the man in his throat. Castiel clutches at his brother and at himself, desperately trying not to throw up. _Be strong- don’t give away your fear_ \- he tries to hammer that thought into his mind, but the sour stench of his fear seeps through the air, and _they can all smell it_ -

Castiel barely remembers what happened after- but it was something terrible- the shadow-men charged at them, brandishing swords while they were pushed in together, horse by horse, man by man, trapped and encircled. He leans in, clutching his brother close as they fought, feeling blood dripping into his hair. Castiel closes his eyes and wills it all to go away, pushing his fear deep within him.

His brother pushes a dagger into Castiel’s hands as more guards fell and the shadow-men charge into their circle- they were jeering now, demanding his brother hand him over-

Castiel feels his mind go blank as he plunges the dagger into soft flesh, his brother fighting to keep them both on the destrier and to keep men of their backs, so Castiel keeps slashing at the arms that extend- they’ll never have him, they _can never have him_ -

The bloodied dagger falls from between his fingers, all cut up and red with blood, a dead man lying at his feet- when did he and his brother fall? They were all surrounded now, only a few men left, and Castiel staggers forwards, not knowing what to do- it’s too much, it’s all _too much_ -

Dimly, Castiel hears his brother shout as he feels himself being picked up and thrown over the back of a horse.

“Sorry...I’m…” he murmurs, eyes closing.

\----

They came back- Cas’s brother, who was supposed to leave, his men, and some of Dean’s guards he sent to bring Cas back- covered in blood, limping and silent, with fewer horses and even less men.  

 _“Where is he !”_ Dean yells, a thick layer of red clouding his vision. Something in him knows that something is wrong, but he refuses to believe- “WHERE IS CAS! WHERE IS HE!” None of them replies, and the silence grows louder and louder, crowding his mind-

“Dean- DEAN! Please, calm down-” Sam shouts, and that snaps Dean out of his blind fury, one hand still fisted in Castiel’s brother’s shirt, the other man’s eyes cold and mouth pressed into a thin, hard line.

“They took him- men dressed in black robes-”

“YOU let them!” Dean shouts back, and he could feel the Alpha rage building in them both.

Sam grabs Dean and pulls him away, and Cas’s other brother does the same. Thick tension falls over them, and Dean has to sit, or he’ll fall down on his knees, limbs heavy. They all took their seats around the table, grim and silent. No matter how much blame he hurls at the other Alpha, Dean knew that he was at fault- he did not tell them about his enemies- the men dressed in black, or the threats he had received just days before.

“It must have been Roman.” Dean stares at his hands as he speaks. “Him and their Kan- they call themselves _Leviathans_.” He spits out the hated name.

“Why would they want Castiel?” Gabriel glares at him, the Alpha’s eyes piercing. Dean grips the table, knuckles going white.

“It’s my fault.” He tells them. “They got him because they want to get at _me_.” And Dean was silent.

“We were- raiding them, as they have raided us in the past.” Sam tells them, one hand on Dean’s shoulder. “They must’ve taken Cas- for negotiations-”

“They sent me a letter-” Dean interrupts. “They said- _fuck_ \- they’ll take something precious from me if I-”

Gabriel jumps at Dean, nearly hitting him- “WINCHESTER!” He yells- “YOU Mmmpf-” mouth covered by Lucifer's hand, he scowls at Dean.

“Our father conquered much of their lands.” Sam pushes in between them, slamming his hands down on the table. “Kan Roman has always wanted it back- he _must’ve_ seen Castiel and Dean’s marriage as an opportunity- to ransom his lands back.”

“Castiel is of house Novak.” Lucifer lets go of his brother. “We _will not stop_ until he is safely returned.”

Sam nods. “They won’t hurt him- not yet- they know he is important to us all.”

He sounds so sure, but the icy tendrils of fear still threads through Dean’s stomach, making his eyes sting. Dean blinks, gritting his teeth. He’ll get Cas back- he’ll go to war, and make Roman _pay_ for what he has done. He looks up at Cas’s brothers and his own brother, and his other guards and advisors, seeing the grim determination in their eyes.

  
“No negotiations.” He declares. “We will go to war, and _we will destroy them._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally happening, y'all. The Angst that is promised.
> 
> From this chapter and onwards there will be various descriptions of war and the violence that comes with it. Cas and various others would be in pain, and more warnings would be added to the tags as I write. If you feel uncomfortable by any new elements it'll be understandable. If you feel that I need to add more tags please tell me so!


	15. I will not break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:
> 
> From here on there will be graphic descriptions of warfare, unsavory actions taken by our main characters, threats of non-con(no actual non-con), use of slurs and general bad language, and unsavory acts committed against several characters. If there are any issues I haven't tagged just shoot me a message and I'll add a warning.
> 
> Sorry about not adding the warnings in the first place, but I wasn't too sure about certain plot points and events until I've actually written them, so the tags may change in the future.

“I’ll write Michael. Tell him I cannot leave-”

“You let him be taken.” Gabriel hisses at his brother, though he knows that Lucifer and the scant guards him and Castiel had with them was not enough to withstand an onslaught from expert riders of a rival Kan, who outnumbered them almost ten-to-one. “Our baby brother-”

“I _know_ what I did.” Lucifer glares back, eyes cold like ice, and Gabriel swallows his apology, shaking his head.  

“It’s not your fault.” Gabriel says, when the silence between them has settled. “You were-”

“Outnumbered.” Lucifer slams the quill down, spilling ink. “Should’ve tried harder.” 

Gabriel shrugs at that, shoving the curtains aside, plopping down on the grass. His hand itches and he wraps it around the hilt of his sword. There is nothing he can do to help- not at this moment, but as soon as there is a battle he would charge up and  _ get his brother back _ . It’s hard to think of anything else, even for a trickster with a head full of jokes. 

\----

Dean should be out there, fighting for his mate back- not- not doing this. He clutches at the letter Roman sent him- but the scouts have been sent out to find where they went.  _ Be patient _ , Sam tells him. Dean doesn’t _ want _ to be patient-  _ fuck _ , he wants to cut off Roman’s head and mount it on a spear until he rots. 

_ I will take something precious from you, and then you shall know true pain, as I did when my lands were taken. _

_ -DR. _

He rips it in half. Half of his lands used to belong to the Leviathans, until Kan John, his great father- Dean scoffs, rode them all down until they barely existed, taking one of their daughters- that’s how his other brother was born, after all. 

He takes another swig, letting the wine burn through him- “fuck!” Dean yells, punching the table. A piece of wood splinters out, cutting him open. He keeps pounding his fist until the physical pain takes away the hole in his heart- his mate isn’t safe, and Dean can’t do  _ anything _ . Fuck, he feels  _ useless _ , sitting here and numbing himself with drinks and pain. Warm blood darkens his coat, painting his hand red. Dean’ll paint the grasslands red with Roman’s blood, that he promises to himself. 

\----

Sam, mouth pressed into a thin line, orders the scouts to search for any activities of the Leviathans at the borders of their Kanate, sending ravens out to the smaller camps and making sure that they could reach any messages sent by the connections they may have among the Leviathans. Roman is unwise in causing conflict with them, they all know that. There are likely many within his camps that does not want to fight in an unwinnable war. 

His brother knows how to fight a war, and how to lead in a battle. Sam coordinates all the effects- the spies and the shadows, he does all that. It’s how they do things in their Kanate. Dean leads, and everyone follows, and Sam makes sure they’re all safe. But Cas was caught out, and he had failed- Sam clenches his fist, enough to leave moon-shaped imprints on his palm. He will not fail again- he thinks of the Omega, who is Dean’s mate, but so much more- he is a kind man, and a studious man, and Sam’s friend. 

“Get Crowley.” He orders the men and women in the shadows. “Tell him he knows what he has to do.” 

\----

Castiel glares at the heavy chains around his ankles, and the large wood-and-iron carriage they threw him in. He screamed and yelled and called them every dirty word he knew, and got no replies. Only thin slices of sunlight filters through small cracks, and Castiel moves closer, letting the rays settle on his face. How many days has he been here? A silent Omega comes and takes care of him, give him food and water, but the glint of a blade strapped to her belt makes him silent. 

“Fuck you all.” He growls out, not caring if those outside the carriage could hear him or not. 

The silent Omega comes again, unlocking the only door on this carriage, covering his eyes with a piece of cloth and dragging Castiel out as he swears at her again. “I’ll find you and kill you- _I’ll do it myself_ -” he hisses at her. She grabs his hair by the fistful and drags him off, still unable to see. He could smell the sickly sweet, almost cloying scent of an Omega in heat. 

“WHY!” He yells at her, suddenly angry that another Omega would treat him like this, when members of their sub-gender have always had such a hard time in this world. Castiel gets no reply, so he curses out at the shadows dancing behind his eyelids. 

Roman is a smarmy bastard, Castiel decides, as soon as the stern Omega pushes him to his knees and pull off the cloth so hard it whips him in the face. He glares at him, and at her, and grits his teeth. 

“Feisty one, this one.” His voice is smooth like unbroken water, sending shivers down Castiel’s spine, the Alpha’s scent sharp and unpleasant. He frowns, ignoring the nausous pit in his stomach. “Winchester’s little Omega  _ whore _ .” 

“ _ Weak _ bastard.” Castiel retorts, meeting the Alpha’s cold grey eyes. He tilts his chin up, unyielding. The Omega pushes him down, letting stones dig into his knees. “You can’t defeat my husband, so you come after me- all the Kans and Kanates will  _ spit at you _ , and see you as the feeble man you are,  _ you cannot  _ even come after an Alpha on your own, so you take the Omega.” He sneers at Roman. He saw the leader of the Leviathan Kanate, once at his bond-feast. Never liked the man. 

His hair is twisted, pulled by the other Omega, suddenly angry, but she lets him go when Roman waves his hand. Castiel pushes down the pain, eyes hard, letting a blank mask settle over his face. He will give them no weakness- he is a Novak and of the North, and he is Kanah to Dean Winchester. He cannot give them any weaknesses they can exploit. 

Roman gets up and strides towards Castiel, letting the ornate edges of his cloak drag on the ground. Castiel scoffs- Dean has no use for such elaborate yet unpractical dress. Roman leans down towards him, stroking his cheek with cold, clammy fingers, and Castiel suppresses a shudder at the touch. He spits in his face, and feel a fierce pleasure rise up in him as Roman curls his lip in disgust, wiping the spit off his face with a gloved hand. 

A sharp sting of pain sends Castiel reeling, realizing that he has been slapped. He bites down on his lip, drawing blood, hard enough to stop any sounds of pain. He turns, holding Roman’s gaze, pulling his lips back, half smiling and half grimacing. “ _I’m no weakling like you_.” He grits out, and laughs as Roman slaps him once more, and orders him to be taken away. Castiel curses them out, and when the Omega clutches her hand over his mouth, he bites until she grunts and moves away. He cannot bend and he _will not break_ , so he must _fight_. 


	16. Know the real me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: war, some torture, John Winchester's A+ parenting, period-typical discrimination against Omegas.

_ Your Omega whore likes to bite. He’s a good lay, I bet you think so too, Winchester. Too bad he’s my bitch now, I like those big blue eyes. Bet you liked those too, Winchester. Give me my lands back and I’ll give you your whore back. I bet you want him back.   _

_ -DR _

Face blank, Dean rips the parchment, and rips it once more, and once more, until there was nothing left, small pieces flying away at a slight breeze. He stamps them into the mud, crushing them, slamming his sword into the scabbard. The words  _ imprint  _ into his mind, and if Dean closes his eyes he can still see them, and it fills him with seething rage. 

“I’ll kill that bastard.” He grits out.

“ _ We’ll  _ kill that bastard- all of us.” Sam stamps on the pieces of paper as well, still frowning, brown eyes filled with concern. 

“You don’t think-” Dean’s voice is thick with worry and tension. “That he-”

Sam shakes his head. “He wouldn’t. Cas is a hostage- they would want to, uh-” Use all his _value_. As far as most Southerners are concerned, Omegas are only good if they remain tied to one Alpha- Sam doesn’t say that out loud, but Dean could hear it in his tone. They both dislike such notions, but it was the _norm_ for the Kanates, and written in ancient laws. Hopefully- as far as Roman is concerned, the Leviathan Kan would think that an Omega hostage is only valuable if he remains chaste. 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t.” A small, treacherous voice in Dean’s head whispers ‘ _ what if _ .’ He shakes such thoughts away- the only thing Dean should focus on is how to get his mate back- and if Cas was really hurt like that, then there will be  _ hell to pay _ . 

The fluttering of wings break their silence, and Dean turns to see one of Sam’s birds at the desk. He doesn’t ask Sam about his spy business and Sam doesn’t pry into Dean’s affairs in war. Sam takes the parchment attached to the raven’s leg. “We’ve got Leviathan activity-” Sam pushes it into Dean’s hands. “It’s near where we are- a day of riding, and we can raid them- see if they knew anything.” 

“We go  _ now _ .” Dean snaps into ‘leader’ role. There is a war to fight, but right now he needs to focus on this battle, this raid, see if it can help him get closer to the end goal. “Send a message out to Cas’s brothers. They would want to come.” When those close to them are hurt, Alphas want blood more than anything. Dean knows that the other Alphas are getting increasingly aggressive. A raid would take the edge off- even better, if they can get any information on Cas.  _ Any _ bit of news at this moment would be like rain on parched lands. 

They ride out in early morning, camping and resting at noon, and by nightfall he and his men, as well as Cas’s brothers can make out the faint lines of an encampment, the slight flickers of distant fire. Dean feels his lip curl up, the first half-smile he has had in days. 

“We ride at sundown.” Dean tells Gabriel, and the other Alpha nods, face half-covered by shadows. The usually rowdy Alpha sullen. He can’t make out Lucifer’s expression, but his senses tell him that they are all baying for blood like Dean is. “Kill the men. Take their leaders prisoner. I want to know what their plans are.” 

When the last flickers of light disappears over the clouds, Dean and his men ride in darkness, careful to keep quiet. The sentries were quickly cut down by Gabriel, firing one arrow after the other. 

“Knock.” Dean lets Gabriel take command of the bowmen- and he is good at it, too. Dean isn’t the kind of leader that has to take control of everything and everyone- that was his father, and look where it got him. “Draw.” The riders were all silent, spears drawn. Dean has his own, a long-spear passed down by his father. 

The bowmen dip their arrows in oil, and it’s only through the flickering lights that Dean could make out the shadows around him. Sitting atop horseback and upon a hill, they have full view of the camp from the back. Hit them in their weak points. “ _ Fire. _ ” 

Hell fire rains down from above, and the distant echoes of screams tells Dean that this is their chance. He holds a hand up, spear in the other, while Gabriel directs the bowmen to knock and draw once more. Dean curls his fingers into a fist, and slams it down in the direction of the camp. “NOW!” He bellows out the order, and they charge down, wind in their hair. 

Dean spears the first man he sees, stumbling out of the tent still half asleep and unarmored, spilling blood and guts onto the ground. With each kill their enemy grows more alert, so he charges, keeping their pace fast and ferocious, bowling down any opponent under the iron-clad hooves of their war horses. He could hear the bowmen charging as well, swapping their bows and arrows for spears and whips as the two forces become too entangled for arrows not to misfire. 

Riding into a sleeping camp already burning is like riding into hell, the sounds of screaming men and horses and the sickly sweet scent of blood. Dean reveals in it all as he rides down one man after the other, spearing them in their chests, their throats, their bellies. Warm blood splashes onto his face as one faceless man after another gurgles out their last words and fall like broken dolls at his feet. 

He sees Lucifer- who fights with a giant scythe-  _ seriously _ ? And he sees his men, spearing men and riding them down, hearing the squelch of flesh smashed into the ground. Dean grins, letting the lust for blood take over him, enough that he reveals in the scent of blood and the sound of screams. In the past he had always suppressed such urges, brought himself back from the brink. Now- now Dean could not care less. 

When they found the men in charge of the camp, Dean jumps down and strides up, knowing that they see him as a monster, covered in blood and guts, a wide smile on his face. 

\----

They drag them back to Winchester territory, and by then they were either begging for death or begging to talk.

“Take ‘em to the rack.” Dean orders, even when Sam protests in concern. He can handle the rack.

“What’d you think I did, before I was Kan- what’d you think  _ my father _ -” and his second-in-command, Alastair- “got me to do, got me to be-” this is something Dean hasn’t done in years, but knowing that these bastards could know where his mate is- well, that’s enough incentive for Dean.

“Puh- _please_ -” one of the sputters, “Kan Roman- Kuh-Kan Roman jus’ wanna-”

“What does he want?” Dean growls. He doesn’t even start with the knives and they were already snivelling. But he knows what Roman wants, and he knows that he ain’t gonna give it to him. “WHERE DID HE TAKE CAS!” Dean yells, cutting away a stripe of flesh, hearing the high-pitched, desperate scream.

“ _ PLEASE _ !” The prisoner gasps. “I- I”

“Your mate!” Another man chokes out “I- I hear they took ‘em with the Kan- wu-with Kan Ro-roman-” The knife falls from Dean’s hands then, and he staggers back, not even looking at the rack- Gods, how did he even stand  _ going back in there again _ -

He stumbles away, distantly hearing himself ordering the guards to put these men out of their misery. Dean must’ve lost some time in there. When he looked up again, they were not men, but flayed, bloody strips of  _ meat _ , just  _ hanging  _ there, looking at him. 

It’s only when he is all alone, ‘cept for Sam, that Dean allows himself to fall to his knees, vomiting up water and bile. 

“Dean- please, Dean- I”

“I’m _fine_ -” Dean gasps out, forcing himself to open his eyes, see his bloody hands, like all the other times he’s had to see them, every time John needed  _ information _ on some war or some battle- 

“You’re not fine.” Dean knows Sam must be making that face again, that little concerned frown and down-turned mouth. “Why did you go back in there? You don’t have to anymore- not after-” Not after their father got himself killed and Dean took over. 

“I dunno, Sammy.” Dean leans against his brother, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, painting a streak of red on his face. “Jus’ feel like going back to my _roots_ , that’s all.” 

Sam says something again, but Dean just leans back and tunes him out, thinking of Cas. Would his mate let Dean lean against him, all soiled with blood and sweat, or would he shrink away in disgust? He told Cas many things, showed him many sides of Dean the man, Dean the Kan, Dean the warrior, Dean the Alpha- but he never showed him Dean the torturer. 

\----

Sullen, frightened Omegas wash and dress Castiel, but he remains in chains. He scoffs and glares at them, and some shrink back under his gaze. The Omega with her hand on her curved knife tells him that she would not hesitate to plunge that blade through his belly if he even thinks of running. With these chains, and this deep into Leviathan territory, Castiel would have no chances- he must bide his time, keep his strength, keep his wits. 

“Roman wants to see me, but he never wants to see you.” He keeps his voice soft and steady, dripping poison. The Omega woman grabs him by the neck and slams him back in the wagon, horses braying and kicking in the background. Castiel smirks. 

“You know nothing-  _ nothing  _ about Kan Roman, you- you  _ cunt _ -!” She hisses at him, blond hair falling across her eyes. 

“He treats you like any other Alpha or Beta guard, doesn’t he? Use you in any way _ except the way you want him to _ .” Castiel knows words can cut deep. Looks like the time spent listening to the courtly Omegas gossip in his youth has been helpful. She looks like she has been slapped, eyes sudden red-rimmed. She punches him, snapping his head back, pressing the tip of her blade to his throat, letting cool steel cut a thin red line. The blood stains the coarse white robes they forced him into. 

“You _ poor thing _ -” Castiel continues, thinking up ways to cut the deepest wounds with his words. 

“SHUT UP!” She yells, slamming him up against the wagon walls. “SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!” Castiel goes dizzy with pain, sliding down to the ground as the other Omega gets pulled back by other guards. 

“Take her away.” One sneers as they pick Castiel up. 

“Crazy Omega bitches.” Another guard mutters. “Clean this one up.” He beckons at nearby servants. “The Kan wants to see ‘em.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this far! We just hit 20k and wow that's an amazing feeling. I would love to hear any feedback about the story thus far! Cheers!


	17. The Mystery Man

Castiel refuses any attempts by Roman to get him to write Dean. He’s gotten surprisingly good at insults, Castiel thinks, and they all bear them, since they can do nothing to harm him without Roman raining down fury- with no hostage, Dean would charge on them all and destroy them. 

“Write this letter,” Roman places his hands on either side of the table, bending down to form an imposing figure over Castiel. “Tell him to give back- half,  _ half  _ the lands his father  _ stole _ , and you will be back, safe.” Roman sneers, and Castiel turns his head, ignoring the slimy bastard. “We both get what we want,  _ Castiel _ .” He grabs Castiel’s chin, forcing him to look up. “Don’t you _want_ to go back to Winchester?”

“He _will_ come and take me back.” Castiel retorts, ignoring the parchment and quill. He will write no such letter. Castiel is many things, but traitor is not one of them. He will  _ never _ betray his family, and  _ Dean _ is family. “Dean will kill you and come get me.  _ I  _ _believe in him_.” That gets him a slap, splitting his lip. Castiel licks away the blood. His face must look bruised, swollen, lip split and bleeding. Roman hits, but he does not cut him like the girl did- he must’ve sent her away. 

The sudden roiling in his stomach catches Castiel by surprise, and he leans over, heaving and vomiting onto the table, ruining the parchment, splattering over Roman’s hands. “You _bitch_ -” Roman pulls away in disgust, waving over servers and guards to take Castiel away. Castiel shakes, still unable to keep the nausea under control. He wraps an arm around his middle and lets himself be led away. 

They give him water to wash away the acrid taste, and porridge to settle his stomach, when a shorter man- a Beta, Castiel scents, with dark hair and sly eyes strides towards him, dismissing the guards and servers. “Leave,  _ leave _ , I say,” he orders, “I’m a  _ healer _ , I know what I’m doing- for the sake of the Gods, he is  _ chained _ . Do not worry, this birdie has his wings clipped.” 

Castiel stiffens as the man walks closer, leaning down and cupping his cheek, rubbing his thumb across his bleeding lip as he coos with a strange accent, “oh, poor Cassie, how’re you  _ feeling _ .” 

“Who are you.” Castiel shifts away. The man leans in.

“I’m Crowley- don’t worry, darlin’, I know the Winchesters.” He grins. “Let's say I owe the boys a favor- after this, though, I’d say they owe me a big one-” 

Castiel grabs onto the man- Crowley’s wrist. “Dean sent you?!” He whispers, turning his head to see that none of the guards are close enough to hear them. “What’s going on- can you help me-”

“Shh, shh, sh, Cassie, calm down,  _ please _ ,” Castiel nods, heart pounding- this means that Dean knows where he is- and Dean would know how to get to him. Crowley stares at him, moving his eyes across his body and they settle on Castiel’s stomach. “Ah.” He says softly. “We may have a little problem here.” Castiel leans away, suddenly uncomfortable. Despite Crowley’s admission that he is here to help him, every instinct within Castiel screams at him to be wary.

He presses a hand on Castiel’s stomach. “I think you know what’s going on here, Cassie. It could be dangerous- I have a tea, if you will-”

“No.” Castiel cuts him off. He has known, in the back of his mind he has known since the first stirrings of nausea when he was captured and the faint flutter in his belly that he could feel each time he lays down. 

“Your choice, then.” Crowley doesn’t seem displeased at Castiel’s decision to keep the pup, even in such a dangerous place. His hand wraps around his other wrist, where Dean’s gift glitters a shining blue. Now he has two links to Dean that he could hold on to, even if he is so far from his mate when he needs him the most. 

“Should I relay a message to them?” Crowley asks, and Castiel shakes his head. He knows Dean is coming for him, so why give his mate another thing to worry about. He places a hand over his stomach, feeling the soft hums of emerging life. “I’ll keep you safe, I  _ promise _ .” Castiel whispers. He and his child will not be used as a weapon against Dean.

\----

Dean hunts down another encampment of Leviathans, and another, leaving the majority of the Kanate and its daily affairs to Bobby and Ellen, opting to ride with his elite guard, Sam and his spies, and Lucifer and Gabriel, spearheading the invasion into Leviathan territories- the ones they have left after John and Dean was done with them in the first war the Winchesters waged against Roman and his father. 

“My brother has written back,” Lucifer tells him, the scruff on his chin growing thick, almost a full beard. Dean rubs his own chin, feeling the coarse hairs. Too little time to clean up when there is a war to fight, and though the Leviathans are low in numbers, they are awfully loyal to Roman, enough so that Dean does not yet know where Roman- and Castiel- is. Nevertheless, they keep pushing into Leviathan territory. 

“Michael? When will he arrive?” Dean asks, pulling Imp up. They need all the help they can get, the South is a vast land, and even reduced the Leviathans have a great amount of lands to disappear to. And with them, Castiel. Dean would hunt them down to the ends of this world if he must, because he will find Cas. He  _ has to _ . 

“He’s traveling light with men on horseback.” Lucifer says, swinging the scythe so the tip of the rounded blade grazes the ground. “He should be here in a month, if not sooner.”

Dean nods and they survey the Leviathan camp in silence, this one much larger than the ones Dean and his men had taken out thus far. It’s hard to talk about anything with Lucifer, the way the man sits in silence with the ghost of a smile by his lips. 

They ride once more at night, and by then Dean knew the routine. Gabriel leads with his bowmen, firing arrows dipped in fire until the camp was lit up- of course, they had much more men than they did in the first jaunt. Almost one-third of the Alphas in the Kanate of fighting age is with them now, a large army like the ones Dean’s father once commanded. Whatever he may say about the old man, his legacy meant that Dean could be a powerful man. 

They charge into the camp, sowing chaos and shedding blood, and Dean can feel his blade sing as he cuts down man after man. Still, it is not enough. It will never be enough until he finds Cas again, and the hollow pit in his heart can be filled again. 

\----

The days spent riding to the South was tiring, but when they did arrive after more than a month of riding almost day and night, Michael opts to see Kan Winchester as soon as he arrives

“How’s my brother?” Winchester asks as soon as they sat opposite one another in the lighter tents the Kanates used in times of war. “Heard he went off and married you.” 

“Adam is doing well.” Michael clenches his fist. “How is  _ my _ brother?” He retorts. “Heard you went and  _ lost _ him.” 

“You-” he looks down, and back up at Winchester, glaring at him and grabbing Michael by the collar of his robes. If his guards were here, their swords would be pointed at Dean Winchester as soon as he made a move. Michael shifts his hand over his own sword- he had always preferred to fight for himself rather than letting his guards do so. 

Winchester loosens his hand and Michael adjusts his collar. “Let’s talk of this war.” Michael drums his fingers against the table, both men deciding to not talk of their previous encounter. “For my brother.”

“For Cas.” Dean Winchester replies, looking him in the eye. “I  _ swear on my life  _ I will get him back.” 

“And kill the bastard that did this.” Michael feels a sudden rage at the thought of his brother, dragged off to marry a stranger, and then taken once more. 

“And kill the bastard that did this.” At least he and Winchester has this in common. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Cas, he's all alone in Roman's camp. At least Dean is fighting super hard to get him back, and he has plenty of help. 
> 
> Time passes pretty quickly in each chapter, so the details of the fighting and stuff can be skipped over for more plot. This is the third longest fic I've written, and I'm hoping that it'll become my longest fic soon. Cheers!


	18. Blood and Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: torture, Cas whump, threats against a child.

The moments of nausea passes, and Castiel continues to grow, and he is still stuck in Roman’s camp, being moved from place to place in that cursed wagon- he will never get in one for the rest of his life, Castiel thinks- if he can still have a life on the outside. He rubs his belly, now bulging enough for there to be a slight roundness to it. “Your sire  _ will _ come and save us, child.” He sighs, even as summer passed into autumn. And though he has heard of the war, it still has not reached him, where ever they are, deep in Roman’s territories. 

Roman has him cuffed again, strapped to the walls of the wagon, his Omega servant brandishing a sharp-looking blade. That blade feels sharp, too, Castiel thinks, feeling the cold steel slice through the skin of his arm, enough to sting but not enough for him to lose large amounts of blood. They want his _ pain _ , not his death. 

Five sore, bleeding cuts on his bare shoulders like claw marks. He looks ahead, defiant. Roman curls his lip- the man’s temper has deteriorated as Castiel grew larger, but he would never forget the sickening expression spread across Roman’s face when he first realized that Castiel is with child. 

“If you do not tell Winchester to  _ back off _ -” Roman had snarled at him, spittle flying from his lips, placing his hand against Castiel’s stomach and had  _ pushed  _ until Castiel cried out in pain- “I will  _ carve _ this bloody thing from you-”

“ _ No _ .” Castiel had hissed at Roman. “If you took my child from me,  _ I’ll die myself _ .” He threatened, staring Roman right into those dead fishy eyes of his, and Castiel felt pleased that Roman had been cowed. By  _ him _ \- a strung up, pregnant  _ Omega _ . 

So Roman hurts him instead, leaving red scars inside and out- and he could not even lift the knife himself, he has his lackies do it, always watching and sneering. 

Castiel pulls at the heavy chains on his wrists, holding his arms in uncomfortable, twisting positions that leaves his back aching, belly hanging low and pulling on his back. Salt, stinging white crystals  _ pours _ into his wounds, and Castiel bites his lip, drawing blood, hard enough so he does not  _ scream _ . Castiel heaves as more jagged lacerations are made on his body, bile building up at the back of his throat. He pushes down the urge to scream, feeling blood pool in his mouth. 

“If you tell Winchester to give up this war of his, it will all be over.” The respite from pain is a welcome one, but the room is silent part from Castiel’s pants and Roman’s smarmy voice. Castiel shakes his head, throat too raw to talk. His head hangs low, but he could see the snarl on Roman’s face at his refusal. 

“ _ No. _ ” Castiel forces himself, ignoring the pain it causes him to do something as simple as talking. “ _ Never. _ ” 

He feels Roman stride over, pawing at the blue stones at Castiel’s wrist- Dean’s gift- “ _ Don’t touch it _ -” he forces out, trying to struggle out of the chains. Roman’s fingers dig into his wounds and Castiel screams at the suddenness of the pain, breaking his promise. 

“This’ll send Winchester a message, will it not?” Roman turns and leaves. “Come, wife, we have work to do.” He beckons, and the silent Omega follows him out, head hanging low. 

\----

“Do you think Cassie will be…” Gabriel trails off. He loves Michael, yes, because they are brothers, but the older man is far too serious for his taste, and way harder to rile up compared to Lucifer.

Michael pulls up his sleeve, enough to reveal the golden outline of a tattooed feather. “You see this, Gabriel? It's our symbol. It'll protect us in our time of need. Castiel will be protected.”

“You really believe all that?” Gabriel asks, frowning a little. Yes heard about the family legends, about how the symbols the Novaks etch onto their skin are imbued with old magicks, though Gabriel always found it hard to truly believe. It’s only a bit of family law, coming from the old Northern beliefs that their family flew down from the mountains to walk among men. 

Michael falls silent as the sun peeks its head over the clouds. Gabriel knows his brother is thinking of his mate at the other end of the Kingdom. They return to their respective tents when the sun has fully risen. Gabriel rubs his shoulder, where a single bronze feather is settled on his skin. 

They found Dean kneeling in the grass, the sun casting dark shadows on his face. In his hands sat several blue gems, covered in blood, and a broken silver chain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Sorry about the shorter chapter, but I'm going away for a week at my friend's place, so I might not have much time to write and update. Don't worry about this fic though, I've got future chapters all planned out.


	19. To Bend is to Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mentions of torture

Dean blinks, looking down at the sapphires like it’s the first time he saw them, colors dulled and covered in blood. He did not realize he is kneeling until his knees protested against being pressed against hard ground. “Cas…” Dean whispers, closing his palm around the gift he gave his mate, feeling the gems dig into his palm, jagged edges breaking his skin.

“CAS!!!” Dean yells, not caring that he is drawing attention.

“Dean? Dean! Winchester!” Gabriel calls out, but Dean barely hears him, a white, buzzing noise filling his mind, drowning everything out. He breathes hard, but Dean is choking on air, a deep sort of panic gripping his throat and lungs. “No- no-” his hand shakes, he pulls out the blood stained parchment, the words swimming against the back of his eyelids even as he presses his eyes shut, ripping grass by their roots as his fist clenches against the ground.

_I have your mate and your pup their blood bleeds a pretty red give me what I want and I give them back._

_DR_

“No No No-” Dean chants, falling back on his knees. Oh _Gods_ , Cas is having a child?! He thought that was a possibility, the way Cas’s scent has changed subtly in the days before he was taken, but Dean did not dwell on it, because it would mean Dean has failed not just his mate but his _child_ as well.

“You- stay with him, I’m getting his brother-”

Dean has _failed_ as a mate, as an Alpha, as a Kan- if he can’t keep _one person_ safe, how was he supposed to keep his people safe? There is a gaping hole in his chest, a giant hand ripping his heart out, spilling red all over the great grasslands.

“Dean!” Dean hears his brother, kneeling with him now, that pinched, concerned look on his face once more. “DEAN!” But Dean is lost in his mind, his only anchor the sapphires clutched in his hands, now sharp as shattered pieces of glass, cutting into his flesh, cutting into his _soul_ , they were given as a _promise_ to Castiel, a promise to keep him safe, a promise to _always_ return- and that promise has been broken a thousand times over.

“DEAN!”

“Winchester, what the _hell_ -”

“What is wrong with him?”

“Please- somebody, get a healer!”

“Dean- please, listen to me, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together-”

“I’m sorry.” Dean looks up, briefly pushed out of his chance, and sees Gabriel standing near him, hand clutching his bow. His voice is hoarse, rough, the words come out thick and distorted.

“What?” The other Alpha crouches down, eyeing Dean with concern. “Hey, man, what’s going on? We still need you for the war effort, you know.”

They drag Dean back to the ‘war tent,’ where Dean, Michael and his brothers, and Sam make the plans and move their moves. Dean wants to get away from it, run from the war, leave this whole thing and get Cas back- if he gives Roman what he wants, then it could all be over- Dean shakes his head, telling himself he should not- _cannot_ \- think like that, but the option becomes more and more attractive to him.

 _Coward_ . He beats himself in his mind. Dean is a coward for thinking like this- but suddenly, everything just became _too much_ . The war effort. The ambushes that leads him nowhere near getting Cas back. The way he steps out with a knife and his guards look at Dean with fear in their eyes. They’ve pushed Roman around his territories, burned his lands and slaughtered his armies, sending his people wandering, old men and women, mostly Betas and Omegas, frightened children with lost looks in their eyes and the everlasting sour scent of terror that permeated the lands they rode through. _It’s all a part of war_. Dean told himself. It rings hollow in his mind. They are like lambs to the slaughter, and that makes Dean the butcher.

They settle in the war tent, curtains drawn down and guards sent away. Dean did not look at the men surrounding him. “I’m giving Roman what he wants.” Dean says, and the words come out easier than he thought they would.

“Dean- Dean, you’re not in your right mind, you can talk to me-”

“You _coward_ .” Dean turns to Lucifer, the other Alpha grabbing onto his collar and glaring at him, ice blue eyes blazing with anger. “My _brother_ is _still_ there, and you are thinking of _giving up_ -”

“Lucifer- Luci, c’mon, Dean-o’s been _trying_ -”

“Dean, what-” Sam shakes his head, floppy hair all flopping about, and Dean gets the strangest urge to all laugh in their faces. He suppresses it, but barely.

“Stand down, brother,” Michael pulls Lucifer away from Dean, and Dean rubs his neck- damn, that guy is strong- has to be, with the giant scythe he lugs around. He glares at Dean like he wants to lop off _his_ head with the blade.

Dean lets go of the sapphires, one by one through his clenched fist, letting them fall on the low table with a soft plop. “Cas is--” He couldn’t get these words out- how was he supposed to tell his mate’s brothers that he lost their brother and his child _as well_? He has humiliated himself enough in front of them, cowardly suggesting the easy way out- “Read it, and see for yourselves.” He throws the note down and sits heavily onto the furs.

Michael picks up the note, brows furrowing, mouth pressed into a hard line.

“Oh, Dean-” Sam starts, trying to say something. Dean cuts him off, and shakes his head. There is nothing else Sam could say about this. So he sits in silence, planning his own defeat. He will give Sam the Kanate, if they still want a Winchester at the helm, even if he is a Beta. Or they can choose another, worthy Alpha to lead them- Jo has been showing the potential to be a good leader, but she is still young- Dean sighs. When Cas returns, he will take him and leave, perhaps with his brothers back to Cas’s homeland. 

"I just want  _them_ back." Dean's voice is thick, scratchy from use. "That's all." 

\----

“You are never giving Roman what he wants, are you?” Crowley asks, voice uncharacteristically soft. Castiel shakes his head, and crowds in on himself, clutching his shoulders. He tries to rub some feeling back into his shoulders and his fingers, but the digits stays stubbornly blue. He blinks, feeling the ice water sliding down his temple and cheek.

“ _Never_ .” Castiel pushes out the words between his chattering teeth- ice cold water poured all over his body until he can feel the cold _sinking_ into his bone marrow, until his lips run blue and he could barely kneel- but he keeps shaking his head and saying no.

“I’d stay and help, but,” Crowley smirks, patting Castiel’s wet hair, placing his chin on the Omega’s shoulder. “I’ve got some _news_ that should, ah, _interest_ them.”

  
“Then _go_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vacationing has cut into my writing time, and my relatives are coming over for New Years, but rest assured that I will not abandon this fic. My next ones might have to be write it all then post it, since I'll be doing my postgraduate diploma. I got in, though, and getting that news is awesome!  
> Cheers!


	20. To promise is to tempt Fate

“My brother would  _not_  want to wed a man that will- give up- even if you say it's for  _his_  sake.” Michael breaks the long silence that fell over them after Dean gave them Roman’s letter.

Dean looks up, and looks down again. “I need to save Cas.” He says, staring at his hands. The shame of wanting to give up wells up, but Dean pushes it down once more. “I  _can’t_ leave him there- not like  _that_.” How can Castiel’s brothers not understand Dean’s need to save him?

Lucifer shakes his head. “I’m leaving until you all  _figure this shit out_.” He grounds out, letting his blade drag on the fur, sending pieces of fur flying up in the air and into Dean’s face. Michael turns his back and strides right out with his brother, kicking up the fur right into Dean’s face as well.

“When we first heard about the marriage, we were...not happy.” Gabriel steps in, cutting the almost insufferable silence. “But we can see that you  _are_  a good man, Winchester, and we can see you love Cassie.”

“I  _need_  to save him.” Dean shakes his head, brushing pieces of fur out of his hair. “I  _have to_ save him- and if that means giving Roman  _what he wants_ -”

“Dean-  _even_ if you give Roman what he wants, how’d you know he wouldn’t just- hurt Cas and the- the- anyways?” Sam asks, and that is a question Dean has forced himself to not think about, but Sam is  _right_ , Dean has no idea, he is just riding on the cold spike of panic in his gut- but now that Sam brings it up, he can’t not think about it.

“I- I don’t know.” Dean admits, and all of a sudden his plans to give up falls all apart, and he feels even bigger a coward than he thought he was. “I don’t know, Sam.”

His brother nods and kneels down, facing Dean. “Cas is my friend, too,” he says in the solemn voice that lets Dean know Sam is all determination and focus, a single goal before him. “We  _will_ get him back, and we will stand with you, Dean.” He tells him, and Dean can only nod and thank the Gods for his family. “I’ve- received some news.” He shifts, voice lowering to a whisper. “From our  _ally_.” They both know who they were talking about, and though Dean would not trust Crowley as far as the other man could throw him, Dean knows that whatever news he brings will be important.

“Come on, Sam,” Dean pushes himself to his feet, bringing Sam up with him, determined to wash away his humiliation and moment of cowardice in front of his allies with new action. “Let’s see what he’s got for us.”

\----

Castiel is taken from place to place, a cloth over his eyes and another in his mouth, hands bound behind his back. He must look ridiculous, belly bulging in faded white robes, hair down to the back of his neck after months of neglect. When Dean takes him back, Castiel decides, he will take the longest bath he could, until his fingers and toes shrivel up. Then, he could finally cleanse himself of the miserable pit his life has been for the past months.

And though Castiel finds himself shoved at and locked away once more in a wooden room of sorts, he knows that this is not the wagon. Omegas with child has a much greater sense of smell, and despite the tightened wood and iron beams, Castiel could still smell the river, swollen with the rains from summer storms. The room shifts and tilts, a telltale sign of being on a ship, rising and setting with each rolling wave and the push and pull of the currents.

They took him on a ship- this must have some sort of significance, Castiel decides, since he has always been part of Roman’s plans, from the day he was taken in the woods, and dragged around across large swaths of the Southern plains. Each day felt like a week and each month like a year, but something in Castiel tells him that it is all coming to an end, a deep disturbance settles within his belly.

“hush, child,” he strokes his belly, wincing as a particularly strong kick pushes against his palm. Whatever dark mood he is in, it is affecting his child as well, so Castiel does his best to push away such feelings, letting his now-freed eyes wander over the dark room, trying to discern where on the ship he could be, and what Roman wants from him this time.

“I’ll keep you safe, I  _promise_.” Castiel’s whispers ring loud in the hollow room, and they ring false in his own mind. Every promise he has heard in his life has been broken, Castiel thinks. His father’s promise to return to him, broken, when his body was shipped back to the North, all gaunt and silent, so unlike the man he has known. Dean’s promise, also broken, but it was Castiel’s doing, when he got himself caught. He should have been more careful, and now his child is caught up in Castiel’s fallacious promises as well.

\----

“Looks like our  _ally_  got to us just in time.” Sam burns the note, tying another to the leg of his fastest raven- he needs to get the news back to the Kanate, where Bobby and some reserves are barely enough for guarding the masses of their undefended peoples.

“Get the army prepared.” Dean turns to Cas’s brothers, and several of his other commanders, feeling the sense of urgency keenly. “We need to go back to the river.” Dean pauses, mind flashing back to the time he took Castiel to see the rushing waters, the Omega a soft, warm presence by his side. It has been months since his mate was taken, but Dean still feels the strangeness of not having his Omega with him. Dean picks up the sapphires carefully, wrapping them in soft fabrics, setting the pouch in his robes so they settle near his heart. “Tell Bobby he needs to get the people as far away from the river as possible.” Dean knows how slowly a Kanate could move once they’ve settled, and Dean has ordered them to settle by the river banks- something Roman knew also. He must be desperate to attack Dean’s people from behind- and with ships, too, where the hell did he get them- “We have a long war ahead o' us, Sammy.”

It comes back to the great Southern rivers, where it was said the old horse Gods were borne of the flowing waters, galloping out of each wave as river meets ocean. Fat drops of rain fall from stormy skies, soaking through Dean’s hair and even through his leather and mail armors. He clips his short sword on his belt and reaches for his spear as the distant rumble of thunder signals another summer storm. Dean closes his eyes and tilts his chin, sending a silent prayer to his Gods, and Cas's Gods, too. _Please_ , he begs. _Bring them back to me. Bring them back home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone! Vacation and family stuff and holiday stuff has been keeping me busy, but I'm finding some time to write in between, so it's all good! This arc is coming to a close pretty soon, so be prepared!


	21. Into the darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: sad stuff, pain

Castiel counts the days he has spent locked on this ship, with only the silent servants coming and going, keeping him clean and fed and dressed. Roman came in once, but he does not speak. There are dark circles underneath his eyes, just as their are dark circles underneath Castiel’s. His hair clings to his forehead like dark, oily tendrils. Roman turns abruptly, his robes flaring.

 _If_ it was anyone else, Castiel thinks, he could muster up some sort of sympathy. Roman brought this upon himself- and worse- upon Castiel, upon the masses of dead rotting on the fields of the South, the hollow-eyed children that trail behind Roman’s riders, begging for scraps only to be whipped back. He remembers when war ravaged the North, crops and towns burning to the ground, and he thinks that this is much like it.

Castiel fits himself into a dark corner, pulling his cloak and robes against himself, swaying slightly to the motion of the waves- he does not have sea legs like his elder sister, who spends most of her life on the waves, but thankfully Castiel quickly became used to the motions. He prays to his Gods and his ancestors, the pendant and chain between his hands, but they felt cold and distant. _Too far_ , Castiel thinks- He is too far from the North for his Gods to reach him, but even his desperate prayers to Dean’s Gods _does not feel right_.

No God will help him now, Castiel thinks, despondent as he let the pendant fall back onto his chest. He tries to relax and sleep, but something in the back of his mind tells him that everything feels _wrong_ , and he wants to _run_ , but he is on a ship, surrounded by enemies and the great rushing currents, and there is _no where he can go_.

\----

By the time Dean and his forces reached the rivers, Roman’s ships had landed on the unprotected parts of Dean’s Kanate, but Bobby has gotten most of the non-fighters gone from the main camp. They fought for days, until the great river ran red with blood, bodies of men and women from both sides floating down, bulging bellies and bulging eyes, pale, sickly skin and open mouths, worms digging into their eyes.

Arrows rain down upon them from atop the wooden structures, covered in a thick film of mist as the skies seemed to wail, flooding the southern plains, filling up the southern river until it is twice its usual size. They must have been captured merchant ships, and old ones sold at cheap prices, but the arrows and the river meant that Dean’s people could not reach Roman’s men, and Roman’s men could not reach Dean’s army without sending out smaller boats with little defense. Surprise could have been the other Alpha’s only advantage, Dean thinks, but even that was broken by Crowley’s well timed messages. The slippery man is nowhere to be seen, so Dean figures that he is doing well for himself.

When Roman’s ships was pushed far back enough by the relentless attacks Dean and Castiel’s brothers has ordered upon them, squads of lightly armored men on small boats they bought from the markets of Kana-Manuk as soon as Crowley’s message reached them, the rains has mostly cleared, though the river is still overflowing, swollen with flood water and dead bodies. Dean’s eyes widens as Roman drags out a familiar figure, his spear nearly falling from his fingers as he pulls himself back from running right into the river. He...he knows of Cas’s baby, but seeing him like _this_ sends a sharp jolt of pain and fury and _fear_ through his body. He pats Imp, making the nervous horse calm down as Dean stares at the figure before him. He could barely make out Cas’s face, but he knows it’s him- after nearly six months apart, Dean sees his mate once more. _Please_ , he sends a silent prayer to his Gods, _not like this_. They did not answer.

“If you let him leave,” Dean grits his teeth and grounds out, “I will grant you my mercy.” He pauses, letting silence wash over all the armies in till the only sound that remains is the soft whistle of the wind and the river’s thunder. “I will give you a quick death, Roman. From me, that is _mercy_ .” Roman’s armies were half-smashed, and Dean barely had any boats left, but he could always return and burn Roman’s Kanate to the ground, and the other man knew so. “I will spare your people, _if_ you return my mate to me.” _Too good_ a bargain for this piece of shit, Dean knows, but it could be the only way for the revenge-crazed Kan to give Cas back.

Roman shakes his head, and drags Cas to the edge of the ship. He can hear Cas's voice, but his words are lost to the wind. Dean’s stomach sinks, and he tries to shout, but all his words are stuck at the edge of his throat.

\----

Castiel feels them, every single one of them, staring. He keeps laughing, tears streaming down his face, feeling the hysteria take over his mind. The knife pokes at his stomach, and he keeps laughing, and even Roman is staring at him. A thick, tense silence hangs in the heavy summer air, and his laugh cuts loud and clear.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry!” He yells out to the armies below, knowing they all fought to get to him, to try and _save him_ , voice hoarse, heart beating wildly against his ribs. Castiel knows that he is going to die- he knows as soon as Roman drags him out by his arm, cold steel against his throat, and something in Castiel’s mind- just- _snaps_ \- “I-”

“Another word and _I slit your throat_ -” Roman growls, so Castiel tries, and fails to suppress his increasingly panicked sobs. He’s fought _so hard_ , _tried_ to hold on for _so long_ , but then Roman hangs him over the edge of the ship, so his legs dangle right above the rolling waves. He really should have known the day Roman brought him onto this ship to attack Dean’s people that he would not make it back alive.

Castiel can’t do anything to help himself, so he bits through his lip until blood streams down his chin and onto his chest, a great big streak of red on his white robes, as white as snow, like the one he wore on his wedding day, as all the soldiers and swordsmen, Nobles and commoners all stare at him. Even Michael is here, now, _Gods_ , it must have been _months_ since he has been taken. His brother yells something at him. So does Dean, but they were too far away to hear. They wave around with their banners and swords, fighting to save _him_ , and he will fail them, Castiel knows that he _will fail them_ , something in him tells him that this is the end. This is _his_ end. 

  
Roman shoves him, drops him in the waters down below. The river swallows him whole, swirling around him until Castiel is dragged in, and _down_ . Water fills up his lungs, and it _burns_ . He feels pain, sharp against the small of his back. In the back of his mind, Castiel whispers a silent apology to Dean- _sorry that he had to see him like this,_ and to his unborn child- _sorry for not being able to protect- sorrysorrysorry-_ Then, there is nothing but silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the saddest, most angst filled point so far in this fic, but it does not end here, and there will be light at the end of the tunnel, so stay tuned!  
> It's a bit of a difficult chapter, but I tried my best.


	22. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: nightmares, bad dreams, mild body horror(in the nightmares)

When Castiel fell, it’s as if the world fell silent, at least, for Dean. Dean falls into a bad dream, a nightmare, one that lasts days, weeks, filled with swirls of grey and red and white, Cas in white robes, covered in blood, solemn blue eyes wide with fear. A child-  _ their _ child, reaching out to Dean from  _ inside  _ Cas, and Dean fights his way through a thick film of fog, almost but not-quite there, when both Cas and the child falls, and falls, and falls until they are swallowed by greywater, and it starts all over again. 

The man who did it- Roman, Dean’s mind supplies, lies in a heap, skin flayed and eyes wretched, and even Cas’s brothers look to him in surprise. 

“Do you not think- it’s too much?” They ask, when Dean refuses to turn his prisoners over to Northern justice, and Dean wipes the blood stained knife on his robes, hands red and shining. “My brother-”

“He killed  _ Cas _ .” Dean can barely recognise his own voice. “And you all want him to-”

“Hang.” Michael steps in. “We want him to be judged, and hung, or have his head- or-” 

“You want him to have  _ mercy _ .” Dean lets some of the anger, the rage that has been building, boiling in his chest into his voice. 

“We want  _ justice _ .” 

“This is the South.” Dean waves his bloody hands, gesturing to the vast grassy plains and the sight of an entire Kanate, all marching together- the armies flanking the sides and at the front and back, and the masses of people in the centre, trailing endlessly towards the horizon’s edge. “This-” he twirls the blade “is our  _ justice _ .”

“So be it, then.” Michael turns, boots heavy on the ground as the Northmen gathered for return. 

The war is over, half the South burning, as Dean and his people Sat solemnly atop their steeds. They've won the war, Dean thinks, with Roman and his army destroyed. It feels like they've lost. Dean watches until Cas’s brothers become small dots at the edge of the grassland, disappearing into the setting sun.

He returns to his tent, not wanting to do anything. Dean reaches into his pouch, feeling for the sapphires, watching them glint under the last rays of the sun, pressing his lips to the cold stone. Dean turns away his brother, not wanting his pity. They all pity him, he knows, looking to Dean with sad eyes- Cas made many friends here, helping the soldiers and other Omegas. It wasn't just Dean feeling the loss, but it cuts him the deepest. Just thinking about his mate, lost to the great river of the South, makes Dean’s chest squeeze down hard on his heart, until it felt like he is the one choking,  _ drowning _ .

Sleep takes him once more, despite Dean’s efforts to force his eyes to stay wide open. He sees Castiel once more, bleeding from the mouth, a child crawling out and reaching to Dean from his belly, while Dean attempts in desperation to grab hold of his fingers. Like water, Cas slips past and  _ falls _ , blue eyes holding onto Dean's sight. 

“CAS!  _ Please- NO _ -!”

Dean struggles up, hands shaking and heart pounding, both hands grasping out, reaching for something he can never touch as he forces himself to breathe- in, out, in, out until his vision stops swimming and the ache in his head subsides. “Fuck- I _ need _ -” he grasps at the wineskin he has been keeping near his bedding, but Dean finds nothing- except for Sam, half concerned and half disapproving, mouth pressing tight like he's tasted something sour.

“You  _ can't _ keep going on like this, Dean-”

“Like _ what _ ?” Dean snaps back, but he knows what Sam means- the lying around, the nightmares, the drinking. 

“The Kanate- we all need  _ you _ -”   


“WHAT I NEED IS TO BE ALONE RIGHT NOW!” Dean stands, and yells, grabbing a fistful of Sam’s cloak. There is dust on his robes and hair and scruff around his chin and neck. Dean’s own robes must be in a similar state of disarray, with him not wanting to move or change or even go near water- he will see Cas falling again, and then Dean will fall apart as well. 

“You don’t think  _ I  _ miss him too?” Sam grounds out, eyes hard and teeth clenched. 

“What?” Dean frowns, letting his brother go. “I don’t-”

“Dean, I know you’re...Cas…” Sam runs his hand through his hair, letting his expression soften, and Dean can see the dark circles under his brother’s eyes, like he hasn’t been sleeping for days. 

“Sam- I’m- sorry, but I- I  _ can’t _ -” Dean closes his eyes, the nightmares flashing back behind his lids- Cas, the baby, the  _ blood _ , Dean reaching out but unable to help, completely  _ useless _ \- “I couldn’t  _ save him _ , Sam. I- I  _ tried _ , but…” Dean looks down to his hands. “I tried.”

“We  _ all  _ did, Dean,  _ we _ all saw how hard you tried, but- but you  _ can’t _ be like this anymore.” Sam sighs, bowing his head, and Dean can see the weight of the war on his brother as well. 

“I know, Sam- I  _ know _ .” Dean tries to force a smile on his face, one he knows is completely unconvincing. 

“I’ll just- give you some time alone, Dean.” Sam pats him on the shoulder. “But...if you need to talk,  _ please _ , know that I’ll  _ alway _ s-”

“Be there.” Dean finishes the sentence, giving his brother a smile that is slightly more real, a quick tug at the corner of his mouth, but it seems to do the job, and his brother lightens up a little, too. 

When Sam leaves, Dean forces himself to walk out of the tent, grimacing as the sunlight flashes into his eyes. He greets his guards and his people, milling about and tending to their flocks, nodding and giving them short replies, seeing their tired smiles and trying to avoid the whispers he knows are spreading across the camp.

Dean takes his steed for a quick ride, far away enough from the noise of the camp to be a distant buzz, brushing Imp’s mane as his own apology for the past few week’s neglect. He charges onto a small hill with sparse woods, slowing down to a trot. 

He jumps down, hitting the ground with a soft grunt. Dean sat, aimlessly looking at the encampment, at the people milling about, and he knows that though it hurts them- what happened to Cas, _they_ will move on. 

“But what about  _ me _ ?” Dean asks out loud, pacing from one tree to another. “I  _ can’t _ forget- I can’t move on,  _ not ever _ -” he chokes up, and Dean feels the rage and pain built in his chest, a knife  _ endlessly  _ twisting, leaving a trail of red. He throws a fist, and another, and another until his knuckles are bloodied and bruised, splinters digging into his skin, until exhaustion takes Dean and he falls to the ground 

The nightmare returns to Dean, as faithful as it had been, every single night since that terrible day by the river. Grey water. Red blood pouring from Cas’s mouth, flowing down until white robes are stained red. Cas reaching out for Dean, and Dean  _ takes hold _ \- he can actually  _ touch _ Cas, and though Cas’s fingers slips right past his Dean takes hold once more, gripping tight-

“I’ve got you, Cas,  _ I got you now _ -” 

Intense blue eyes meets his. “Save me.” That familiar voice echoes, strange and twisted under the water, but Dean can tell it’s his voice, it’s  _ Cas’s  _ voice. He knows it- oh, Dean knows it, even if it’s just a dream- not a nightmare, not a nightmare because he _ hears  _ him, and _ knows _ it’s Cas. 

“I  _ will _ , Cas, do you hear me? I will- Cas?  _ CAS _ !” Dean wakes with a gasp, still on the hard ground, cool air settling on his skin now that night has set. He closes his eyes, the image of blue eyes still imprinted on his lids, replacing the blood red nightmares of Cas falling, and Dean holds onto that image like a dying man holds onto the last vestiges of life. 

He knows now, what he needs to do. The ghost of Cas’s voice in the dream echoes in Dean’s mind. 

_ ‘Save me…’ _

“I will.” Dean walks up to Imp, patting his trusted companion. “C’mon, old friend. We have work to do.” 

He is chasing a dream, an impulse, but somehow, even as Dean rides away from the camp, slipping away in the dark of the night, Dean feels like he is on the right way as he rode, further and further away as the dark of the night swallows him whole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! May 2019 be a fruitful year for everyone. Cheers!  
> This world isn't completely devoid of magic- it's light fantasy, after all-  
> Dean taking off like that would have repercussions, but he can be impulsive like that. It'll definitely be dealt with, though.


	23. Intermission

A man on a mission, Dean does not stop riding until the light of dawn breaks across the horizon, illuminating the bright city of Kana-Manuk, having escaped the worst of the war between the Winchester Kanate and the Leviathans. Some of the smaller towns and villages scattered across the South were not so lucky. Truth be told, Dean did not know why he took off like that, but he’s been riding too far to go back now. He scents himself, the acrid stench of deep sadness that clung to him like burnt flesh and rotten blood washed away by his own familiar scent of cut grass. 

His inner Alpha still mourns to loss of a mate, but something in Dean tells him that Cas is not...gone. He is not with him, but not gone- it is difficult to explain, even to himself, and Dean’s head hurts at the thought of explaining to Sam why he had left just like that. 

“Maybe I’ve just gone insane.” Dean mutters to himself. He settles by the inn where he and Cas said their vows, the Northern way, after they first sealed their marriage in Southern fashion. Dean smiles a little, at the memory of that night, the slim red rope tying them together- red like blood running down Cas’s chin- wide blue eyes closing- hand reaching out, reaching  _ out _ but  _ never touching _ -

Dean finds himself against the wall, eyes wide, panting hard, like he just smashed his head against a war-hammer. Heart still in his throat, Dean forces himself to stand and make his way to another inn, where he pays quickly, keeping his head down and his voice low so they do not recognize him. His scent, with the ever lingering smell of burning is covered by the perfumes and scented waters Dean found at the markets of Kana-Manuk- Sam or Bobby must have sent guards after him in secret, and he does not want to make contact with them until Dean could spend some time to himself and gather his thoughts. 

By the time he settles on the bed- strange device, much harsher than the soft furs and carpets he’s used to, Dean feels tired- right down to his bones, so much so that as soon as his eyes close he falls into a deep sleep. 

A red scar across Cas’s chest, sad blue eyes gazing into his, the fresh wound of his loss ripped apart once more as Dean feels the stab of sudden loss hit him in the chest, so hard that his breath becomes choked, stuck in his throat. 

Dean wakes, gasping, covered in cold sweat, but sleep drags him in once more, unwilling to let go of it’s claws, already sinking into his skin and flesh and bone. 

“Cas-  _ please _ -” in the dream, Dean gurgles out those words, feeling cold water with the sweet tang of blood filling his mouth and chest, squeezing him until he bursts from inside and out. 

Sad blue eyes, unblinking and otherworldly, focuses on Dean. Cas tilts his head, expressionless. “I- I’ll-” Dean feels small hands on his, the shadow of a child reaching out to touch him. Dean feels something burst inside of him, this instinct, a deep ache that spreads inside of him, this  _ need _ to save and protect them, mate, child,  _ family _ -

Dean gasps awake once more, strange sheets and cloth that rub his skin raw falling in a tangle around his ankles. His head feels as if it’s splitting into two, like a blade has wormed its way into his mind and wedged itself in. Dean sits, then stands, aimlessly, the solid wooden room a menacing thing, boxing him in, without the freedom the great plains and less solid tents offer him. 

\----

“I...I had a feeling Dean would do something like this.” Sam is not sure what he feels is anger, disappointment, or desperate sadness, he had just lost a friend, and with him his brother, too. He tries to write something, anything to Dean, but the words can’t find him. The bird squawks loudly, beckoning Sam to hurry. 

“Idjits.” Bobby mutters, the older Alpha, tired and war-weary, wraps his hands around a tankard of ale.

“What do I do now?” Sam asks, as he spills ink on his fingers and the parchment, and the bird jumps away in protest. 

“Yer the one in charge. For now.” Bobby says, voice gruff. 

Sam doesn’t feel ready, not at all ready for  _ this _ . Leading. But he will do it, if he must. If this- Dean running off- forces his hand. No Beta has ever led a tribe as large as this, and Sam can't help but feel a small swell of pride at knowing that. He will have to make himself the best example there is- until Dean comes back, because his brother would always come back, he knows that. 

\----

Dean feels more  _ alive _ than he had been for the past few weeks in this moment. Sword in one hand and blade in another, he stands in the grimier parts of Kana-Manuk, backed against a wall, yes, but not trapped. 

He swings his sword lazily, flashing his attackers a smile that seems to rile them up, as they snarl and hurl themselves at him, all brute strength and no form, so Dean keeps his legs and feet steadily planted as he swings, blocking a hit and letting the blade do its job, sinking into the other man- Alpha, Dean nearly gags at the acrid scent of an Alpha near rut, but that explains the aggressiveness. He guts the man, a red smile blooming on his belly. 

He stumbles then, and nearly falls, a sharp pain cutting into his thigh as an assailant sinks a blade into him, the red reminding him of Cas and  _ falling _ \- Dean bites his tongue, and focuses himself- if this little battle would near cripple him, then he is not fit to lead, he never did tell his brother of how Dean would freeze now when he sees blood, once the blood red haze of killing Roman has faded. 

Dean blocks another blow, cutting another man, forcing back bile at the strong iron scent of blood. By the time he has forced his assailants back, three bodies lie by the walls. Dean wipes his blades on their cloth, and finds his way back to the inn, forcing himself to become ghost-like as he makes his way in silence. 

He lights a candle on the heavy wooden table, and prepares the parchment and ink the inn gives to each traveler. Dean taps the tip of the quill against the parchment, letting the ink blotch and soak in, before he began to write. An explanation of sorts, he thinks, as he tries to put in words the dreams he has been having of Cas, the small thread of hope against all odds that his mate is still out there somewhere instead of dead and forever swallowed by the Southern rivers that has been forcing itself in his chest. 

Dean sets down the quill, page covered in messy ink blots and misshapen words, too nervous to write properly. He hopes it is enough to convince his brother and surrogate-father that he is doing what needs to be done. Dean will think about the future after he finds Cas. He will think about any future he might have after he finds Cas. Dean knows he has to find him, otherwise, the infinite pain that has been gnawing at him  _ will _ drag him down, until Dean loses all strength, all will to get back up once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First update of 2019! Hope everyone has had a great time during the holidays!


	24. On a Wing and a Prayer

He turns, and coughs, and it appears that he must have drank the entire river, hacking up grey water, but at last his stomach settles a little, and he shifts, lying down away from the puddle, heaving his large belly and iron-laden legs. 

A silver chain lies on a chest, curling in the shape of a wing.  _ It’s important _ , something in him says, and he touches it, cool metal against his skin. He touches his wrist, too, tentatively at first, then gripping it firmly, but something is missing.  _ A promise _ , his mind whispers, but when he chases after that thought it dissipates once more. 

“What is my name?” He asks, to the first person he meets, a smaller man, sweet-smelling with a slight tang of sea-salt.

“Man, _how would I know_?” The smaller man, dark-haired with olive-coloured skin, asks him, incredulous. There is no fear in his scent, so he moves closer, eager to be with his own kind. The other recognizes him as an omega, and steps closer- he remembers these things- about how the world works, and that there are multiple Lordships and only one King, an old King. But he remembers nothing of himself, and how he got here, only a hole in his mind and a hole in his heart, a soft, deep and inescapable ache. 

“Come on,” the other man’s eyes soften as he runs them over him, taking in the water-logged, tattered robes that barely covers his stomach, large with child, and he thinks of how he ended up like this, with no memories of who he is, about..he frowns, and thinks..about six or seven months with child, from the looks of it. “I can take you to my village, if you don’t mind.” He nods, and follows. 

It was small, but tidy, neat wood and brick structures, near enough to the Ocean that the smell of salt overpowers any scents of the people there, but he could tell that the village is almost devoid of Alphas. A fishing village- it makes sense, seeing the nets and the boats in repair- that the Alphas would be out at sea this time of the day, and perhaps only back for moments before they return. He strokes his stomach, feeling a soft flutter, then a strong kick. 

Kevin- the other omega, lives in a solid wooden house, and he felt a stab of panic, deep in his gut, as he stands by the front door, debating furiously with his inner self whether he should step in or not. It seems cavernous, like the structure would open wide and swallow him whole, encasing him in a film of black, until there is nothing else left. He takes a step back, breathing hard, trying not to run- It’s  _ nothing _ \- he forces himself to think- he is tired, and hungry, and in need of  _ shelter _ -

The scent of fear, thick and unforgiving, envelops him, and he is frozen on his feet, eyes wide, unable to move. He feels an arm on his shoulder, and concern from the other man by his side, but all he can feel is  _ trapped _ \- being trapped, four walls and _ no escape _ -

“Hey? Hey!” Abruptly, he snaps out of it, and finds himself seated on the muddy ground, leaning heavily against a tree in the small woods that settled between the sand and the grassland. “Are you all right?” 

He nods, then shakes his head. A name echoes in his mind- is it his? Could he have remembered something that belongs to  _ him _ , to his life _ before _ waking up along the great river, drenched and shivering as if the mass of grey water spat him up. 

“I- I’m fine.” He takes Kevin’s hand, and follows him into the small but sturdy structure, dulling his fear with the other omega’s honey-sweet scent.

There are gaps in the wall, wide open windows carved through the wood and covered by thick woven-flax, but there is enough light shining in that it soothes the unease in his chest.  

\----

Sam’s bird reaches Dean, flying away after pecking a few grains from his palm, and he knows that his brother knows what to do in his absence. Dean thinks that Sam would likely make a better leader than he is, with his quiet steadiness and loyalty to their people. 

Dean makes his way away from the city, something in him telling him to go South, so he does. Dean trusts his instincts- they have lead him away from danger many times prior, this time they will lead him forward, until he can find the rest of his family, those lost to wind and water, and bring them  _ home _ .

He asks the scattered settlers whether they have fished anything from the water- or anyone. “An omega, with child, around twenty and two years of age,” he asks, waving his hands, attempting to describe Cas. “Really,  _ really _ blue eyes,” he tells those who settle in small villages by the rivers and streams and subside on fish. 

And though many things- broken spears, broken swords, pieces of wood and half-shattered boats have been washing up by the edges of the river even a month after the conclusion of the war, none had seen anyone like Cas. 

In Dean’s dreams, Cas is no longer drowning, pulling him down, so he chalks that down as a plus. Now that Dean has had some time to think, he remembers the dreams he has been having, of Cas walking away from him and into the water, always into the water, and he wonders whether they were premonitions of sorts. Dean’s heard of things like this before, and his brother swore up down and sideways that he dreamt of the death of their father, before it had happened, but aside from that Dean does not have much to go on- but, if his dreams were in some ways rooted in reality, then Gods be damned, it means Cas  _ can _ be saved. 

The sun rises over distant hills, wisps of grass made translucent by sunlight. Behind him, the small settlements become distant dots, shimmering in and out of focus. Dean rides on with little but a skin of water and dried food, wind in his hair and the sun on his back, and he feels free, more free than he has been feeling for years, always on a raid or defending against one, waging battles here and there, or dealing with the numberless affairs that came up when he tries to manage the Kanate. Without his titles, he is _just Dean_. Dean smiles. He likes the sound of that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! My relatives came over and it's been days of day-trips. Went to see a gannet colony today- pretty amazing, seeing all the baby gannets covered in down. But Cas is back, baby, even if he doesn't remember much.   
> I've also been bitten by an enormous destiel canonverse plotbunny, so once this fic is finished that one should be coming up.


	25. Know Thyself

He is sure that he has never felt such ravenous  _ hunger _ like this before. Cool, clear water eases his dry throat and chapped lips. The thick fish broth, with pieces of supple, cooked fish and herbs, tasted better than anything he has ever had before. He pauses once more, remembering the taste of lamb and honey-cakes, green eyes on his, briefly, before turning away once more. He closes his eyes, trying to catch on to the flash if memory, but it slips past his fingertips.

“You should try to pace yourself,” Kevin shoots him a smile, half concern and half nervousness. The younger man, clad in roughspun cloth, has lended him some of his clothing, though it fits rather precariously over his stomach, and he catches the nervous glances shot at him each time the child kicks and stretches the fabric. He could tell it’s the best item Kevin owns, but it feels strange on his skin, like he is used to something softer. Perhaps he is someone higher-born? Not of this village, then- a son of a high-ranking member of a Southern Kanate? But that still doesn’t feel right- doesn’t  _ fit _ right. 

“Thank you so much-” he says, finally. “You...helped me.  _ Saved  _ me.” 

“Anyone would’ve- would’ve helped, you know.” The younger omega smiles back, and he can smell the pleased sweetness of his scent. “We, uh, help each other, around here.” 

“My name is…” He pauses, and frowns, and tilts his head. “I do not remember  _ my _ name- but I remember _ a _ name.” 

“Say it. Maybe it’ll- I don’t know, wake your memories?” Kevin tears off a piece of warm bread. He notices that the young man lives alone, with no mark on his neck, but this shelter is warm and well-protected. 

“Cas- the name is... _ Cas _ .” He hears it now, a loud, echoing  _ wail _ , a wave of loss, and heartbreak. He winces, closing his eyes, trying to shake the sudden, jumbled memory into something orderly, something that he can  _ deal _ with. 

“Is..is that yours? Your name?” Kevin frowns once more, shifting so the sunlight does not hit him directly onto his face. He shifts in his seat, and he hears the drag of the chair, the legs not entirely of the same length.  _ So they do have chairs in the South _ , he- Cas? Thinks. He rubs is temple at another jolt of pain. 

“I...I think so. Yes.” He- Cas says, this time with louder clarity. He feels something warm spread through his chest- perhaps this is what others called him? It fit, in any case, and he- Cas- he likes it. Likes the warmth this name evokes. 

Later on, Kevin tells Cas that he has some errands to run, so Cas elects to stay close to the sturdy hut, close enough to see the white stretch of sand and the blue waters beyond, glittering from the sun’s rays, the wide expanse of blue sky stretching endlessly. He sits on a smooth boulder, shaded by a large, broad-leafed tree. Shadows flit across his skin as Cas listens to the crash and ebb of the water, large, looming waves in the distance fading into smaller waves, until white foam forms at its edges and it crashes against the sand, leaving a wet imprint. 

He must have narrowly avoided drowning in the grey mass of water in the river, but there is something different about the Ocean that makes Cas feel less apprehensive, more at ease, even when he nears the water, letting the sun’s heat brown his skin as he shades his eyes with a hand, a wet bead of sweat slipping down his cheek. Another little kick from his child leaves him stumbling into the water, catching himself before he can fall on his stomach. 

The sand crumbles a little under his weight, cool water lapping at his ankles. The larger waves distant enough that all Cas can feel is a little nausea. He wonders how he managed to still be alive, washing up on the banks. The chain around his neck thrums, the metal cold even under the sun. Cas turns the wing-shaped pendant around on his hand, feeling each carved ridge, as it glitters an almost ethereal blue when it catches the light. 

Kevin brought over some of his friends to the hut, hanging out nets while Cas prods at the fire pit, turning over burning rocks with a poker, making sure the heat spreads equally over each fish, wrapped in large palm leaves only found along the warmer Southern coasts. 

Sparsely salted, the fish must have been freshly caught, Cas decides as they plucked at each one with their fingers. The juice runs freely down his fingers and he licks at them, letting each mouthful burst with flavor. They ask him about his life, from before he was found by Kevin, but every time he tries to think, his mind comes up blank. All that comes up in his mind is sad green eyes and his name in a whisper. 

\----

It occurs to Dean that maybe he should’ve brought some guards with him when he decided to leave- or talked it out with Sam so he could’ve brought a larger group with him. With the war done, the South is full of roaming Alphas, those whose tribes have broken up, those who were separated from their Kanates- and they always, always band together, and slink into the forests that dotted the Southern edges, a thick swathe between the vast grasslands that sweep further North and the endless Oceans beyond. 

Dean swings his spear in display of his skills, letting the band of roamers know he has the means and the ability to fight and kill them. 

“You don’t want to do this,” he calls out to them, the air thick with tension and the mingling scents of agitated Alphas, and it’s starting to get to him, too, get him antsy and on edge. 

The scents thicken, and they charge on their steeds, galloping around Dean as he rears up,  _ shoving _ the spear down until it pierces one man at an angle, metal cutting through bone and flesh.  _ Feral _ , Dean decides, as he pulls the spear out, spraying blood and pieces of bone. He dodges a quick, messy swing, the sword leaving a bloody slash on his cheek as Dean swings away from his attacker, spear missing the woman and dragging a bloody path on her horse instead. 

“ _ Ah- _ ” Dean grits his teeth, biting back as another blade catches him on the shoulder, as he plunges his spear into the woman’s chest, both of them half-wild and snarling, caught in the intense heat of the battle. His eyes water at the sudden pain, but he keeps holding on- letting instinct take over as his movements become increasingly rash, but it gets the work  _ done  _ as he  _ tears  _ through the roamers, until all that is left is bloodied bodies on the grass, the lingering stench of blood mixed with Alpha scent and the whinnying of frightened horses.    
Bloodied and cut up, Dean grasps desperately onto Imp’s dark mane, and closes his eyes, urging his steed on- wherever he goes, he  _ will _ search there, too. He slumps down, still clutching onto his spear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry bout the late update! School is starting soon and I've been increasingly busy as the other plotbunny kicks me in the butt, but this fic is still being worked on and will be updated.   
> Cas remembers his name as Dean calls him- and a bit of Dean, too.


	26. My Only Truth

Cas finds himself, ever so tentatively, putting down a few roots, light and shallow, into the sandy beaches and calm waters at the small cove Kevin and several other omegas have settled in. 

“It’s just until their Alphas have returned for the season,” he explains to Cas about the long and arduous expeditions the Alphas of the main village, a short trek away, goes on to provide. “They don’t come back for months, so we settle here, and the betas take care of the village.” 

Cas nods. It feels safe here, in the companies of other omegas, their scents mingling and non-threatening. There are two others with child like him, and he enjoys being in their presence in particular, since omegas with children has something particular in their scents, a soft note of something sweeter than honey, and it calms him to be surrounded by that scent. They did not talk to him much- most of the others in this little enclave attempts to needle memories out of him, but Cas finds it difficult to remember anything but grey water and green eyes. Sitting in the semi-open common areas and weaving nets with the others calms him, and being enclosed in rooms causes him great discomfort. 

Cas tries to convince himself that this is home for him now, or something, some place that will become home, if he stays long enough, if he tries hard enough. 

“You smell different,” Nora, one of the other omegas fitting the nets together shifts so she moves closer to him, her slightly curved belly much smaller than his. “From the rest of us, I mean.” 

Cas leans in, scenting her, and the note of salt that all the villagers here seems to share grows stronger. He doesn’t have that in his scent, and it is likely that he is not from around here. Or anywhere near the coast. His scent has a clean undertone to it, something cold, with a sharp bite, and a wood-like smell as well. He can’t quite _ place  _ it, but Cas  _ knows _ it has something to do with where he came from, before he lost his memories and his past lice, and have to carve out something new here. It’s a difficult task, a lot harder than he thought it would be. 

He is lost, with no memories, no history, with nothing tying him to his old life other than a pendant and a child. He’s been cut clean from his roots, drowned and returned to life, and Cas knows he  _ should  _ be grateful for being  _ alive  _ at all. But there is something  _ missing _ in him, an  _ ache _ that’s been getting stronger. He is getting antsy, wanting to go and find what he’s been missing, but Cas knows he needs to stay around here, at least until he has his child, and is strong enough to travel once more. And though he has friends here, Cas knows this isn’t where he  _ belongs _ . He just  _ does _ . 

“I don’t know _ anything  _ about myself.” He confesses to Nora, who nods, and frowns and listens. She is quiet, and Cas likes the quiet comfort she offers. There is something maternal about the older omega, and she is kind to him like the others here, though Cas still finds himself not quite fitting in. “Or about my life- I- I miss him. My Alpha.” There is something in him that’s broken, shattered, jagged edges that can’t be fixed. He closes his eyes, and something comes back to him, warm green eyes, the scent of grass, and a rich, deep laugh. Cas tries to hold on to that, but when he opens his eyes, it all washes away, slipping past his fingertips, and he forgets once more. “But I don’t  _ know _ him, or who he is, I just-” Cas pauses, frustration taking hold. He should not take his feelings out on the few new friends he has here. 

“It’s okay, really,” Nora leans in, stroking his shoulder. “I’m seeing the healer to check on my child with Hannah, you should join us.” She smiles, and Cas tries to bend his lips, showing something like a smile. Around them, the air cools as the oceans turn rougher, sending a sea breeze across the sand. Cas looks out down to the white sand dunes, the rough patches of grass that gives way to an expanse of sand, cut abruptly by azure waters. He nods, feeling his child give another fluttering kick. 

“I’ll go."

“You know...I heard the healer found some Alpha, all cut up and riding in on a horse, or something.” Nora whispers, eyes widening.

“There are no other Alphas here- except for the healer.” Cas has been to the older Alpha several times, for teas and sweets that settles his stomach and the aches in his back and legs. 

“Well, this one got in somehow.” She laughs. “Come on, we should be heading there, if we want to be back  _ before _ sunset.” 

\----

Dean wakes to the poking and prodding of an agitated healer, a grizzled older Alpha that mutters under his breath as he applies a balm to Dean’s cheek. 

“You’re cut up pretty badly, there.” He wipes the blood of his fingers, long grey hair falling over his face.

“Unnf-” Dean pushes himself up, feeling the stitches digging and pulling at his skin. 

“Careful there.” The healer raises an eyebrow, like he’s seen enough of Alphas like Dean ripping away from the healing rooms as soon as they open their eyes. “You just woke up.” The slight wind shifts the flimsy cloth over the hut. Apart from Dean and the healer, there are no others. Must be a small coastal village, then, like the ones Dean traveled through as a younger man, when he was six-and-ten and the 

“I’m fine.” Dean mutters. Really, he  _ is _ . As fine as can be. 

“You don’t look too fine to me.” The healer raises an eyebrow as he works on Dean’s arm, the needle shifting in and out, tying skin and flesh. Dean clenches his teeth. It’s strange, how the small pains of needles makes him shiver far more than being cut by sword or spear. “Don’t smell like it, either. Lost somebody?” 

Dean raises his eyebrows. Wow, this guy is pretty damn blunt, even moreso than Bobby. He’s been thinking about Cas again, and when he does, he inevitably thinks of the day Roman pushed Cas into the river. “I’ll get him back.” He retorts. 

By the time the healer is done with him, all Dean wants to do is to get up and leave- though he has to find Imp, and his spear, and the healer told him he left it with the nearest fishing village.

Dean pulls at the collar of his coat, worn and dirty from long weeks of riding and camping out, having lost most of his clothing to attackers and roamers- it would take the South  _ years  _ to fully recover from the war. He is baking under the still high sun, though Dean is sure he will find some shelter at the fishing village, grab a little rest, and he will go on in his search. There’s something about this place that makes him feel damn  _ hopeful _ that he _ will _ find Cas. 

Dean turns when hears voices near the healer’s hut, perhaps out of curiosity, or for no reason at all, but he does. He sees a figure, not in white or tan robes like he usually wears, dressed in the casual cloth of local villagers, but there is no mistaking the shock of dark hair or the  _ pull _ Dean feels towards him. Dean blinks, and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he is _still_ there, standing about near the healer's hut. 

Dean feels the  _ relief _ , then. Soul deep, and  _ at last _ , something loosens in his chest, and he could  _ breathe  _ again in a way he hadn’t been able to for the past few months. 

“ _ Cas _ …” he whispers at the figure, still too distant to see him. Several other figures mill about Cas at the entrance of the healer’s hut, threatening to cover him from Dean’s view. His legs move before his mind does, and he strides over, pushing away those surrounding Cas, placing a hand on his shoulder, and it’s Cas, Dean knows, he just  _ does _ . And Cas is  _ real _ , and  _ alive _ ,  _ solid  _ and  _ here _ , and all the words Dean wants to say dries up, freezes up, and all he could do is look, as Cas turns, blue eyes meeting his. 

It’s _ worth it _ .  _ All  _ of it. All these months of war and searching, it’s  _ all worth it _ , to see Cas meeting his eyes once more, the way their eyes met on the night of the wedding feast. 

Cas’s next words sends Dean plunging into ice water. He frowns, and tilts his head, the familiar motion that gets Dean’s heart skipping every time, and asks-

“Who are you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise regular updates, but I can promise that this fic will be completed sometime in the next few months, if grad school doesn't drown me first.   
> Cas and Dean finally meet once more! But this is where the amnesia tag really comes into play.


	27. Tabula Rasa

“Who are you?” Cas asks, and Dean doesn’t respond, tightening his grip on Cas’s shoulder. Cas frowns, looking him in the eye, even as the other omegas next to him start to shrink away, and Dean sees the healer stalking towards him from the corner of his eye.

“You don’t- what- you-” Dean stutters, pulling away, wanting to pull Cas towards him. It’s okay- it’s  _ okay _ , Dean will get them somewhere where they can be alone, and they will  _ talk _ . He panics a little- is it that Cas doesn’t remember him? Did he hit his head on the way down? Or is it that Cas doesn’t  _ want _ him there, in his life again, using this as a way to get away from him- away from a life with Dean? So  _ many _ thoughts flit through Dean’s mind, so much so that his temples begin to hurt, and the beginnings of a headache edges into the back of his mind. Something cold worms in his chest, and his head hurts a little- he must have knocked it on the ground.

“Hey,  _ you _ ,” the healer steps in, eyes stormy as he pulls Dean away from Cas, and Dean growls, seeing red at the sight of someone trying to get Cas away from him. “Leave. These. Omegas.  _ Alone _ .” The other Alpha growls as their scents clashes, and the omegas and even Cas takes a step back, eyeing the back of the hut for an escape.  

“I just want _ Cas _ .” Dean clenches his teeth, gearing up for a fight. The healer is an old man, but Dean can see that he’s a brawler in his youth, lean but strong with wiry muscles, a thick red scar splattering his lower arm. He sees a flash of bone and metal, and knows that is the blade of one practiced in magics, like that slippery informant Sam knows. 

“Why do you want me?” Cas cuts clean through the tension, as Dean and the other Alpha turn in surprise, the red haze of Alpha anger temporarily blinding them to anything but the stink of the other’s scent and a need to rage and fight. “What  _ do _ you want with me.” 

“Come home with me-  _ please _ , Cas, I need you, I need  _ you _ -” Dean pushes the healer out of the way, letting the flash of silver show off his sword before he grips Cas by the shoulders, turning him so they can see eye to eye. Around them, the others fall silent, become as distant as the sound of each wave from the ocean, unseen but still heard. Their sight roll off his back like the grains of sand carried away by the winds. There is only him and Cas here, no others. 

Dean thinks he sees it- a glint, a small hint of recognition on Cas’s face, that  _ beloved  _ face, plush pink lips that he haven’t been able to touch and kiss in  _ months _ , and there is  _ nothing else _ Dean would like to do better than to press his lips against Cas’s, and taste him once more. Make him  _ his  _ again. But every time Cas seems to slip away from him, and Dean doesn’t want to spook him and make him disappear again. 

“I’ll go with you.” Cas says, and places a hand on the side of Dean’s arm. This one small gesture makes Dean’s inner Alpha relax again, content at the closeness to his mate. Cas’s scent, cold and clear, pierces the heat of the midday sun, and Dean finds a smile spreading on his face, pulling so hard that his cheeks hurt, even as Cas turns and shoots these strangers one of his reassuring looks. Even if Cas doesn’t remember him, his time with Dean, Dean knows that deep down, Cas feels it too, the  _ connection _ they have, as mates, and _ more _ . Something at the core of their souls, that pulls them together time and time again, always against all odds. He will find a way to pull Cas back this time. 

Dean keeps one hand on Cas the whole, silent walk back wherever Castiel is taking him, though he does want to pull him back to where the healer has left his ride, and take them both back, Cas and him and their child, too. 

\----

Cas heads to Kevin’s hut with the stranger, noting the constant touches, the constant contact as the Alpha pulls him closer as they walk, glancing at his face and stomach when he thinks Cas isn’t looking. He thinks that he should be alert, cautious, especially when he is alone and with child and unattended with an Alpha who can easily overpower him. But there is something about this man that makes Cas throw all his caution to the wind. The familiar way they fall into step with one another, feet sinking into soft sand, then onto hard ground and sparse grass as they come to the edge of the village.

Cas thinks he’s made the decision to go with this man the moment he laid hands on him, and the broken thing inside of him feels half-healed, yearning for  _ more _ . He pulls away from him, and the man turns, a flash of hurt on his face. Cas reaches out and takes his hand, and green eyes like the ones in his dreams widens, a smile lighting up his face. Suddenly, he feels bashful, in his rough robes, struggling to walk gracefully like he knows he has before he became with child. 

He settles them on a large smooth stone near Kevin’s hut, far enough that all the other huts are blurs of grey and brown, close enough to the ocean to hear it’s crash and the screeching calls of gulls, the sound of wind ripping through large flat leaves. Cas’s hair flutters in the wind, messy and reaching halfway down his neck. 

“We can talk here.” He tells the other man, but he does not let go of Cas’s hand, not even to sit. 

“What _can_ I even say?” The green-eyed stranger who feels so familiar to him whispers.

Cas feels the whisper of a memory edge into his mind, but it fades once more when he grasps at it, a grey film settling like a heavy blanket, blocking out all his memories, all the good and the bad. 

“My name is Cas- or, at least I... think it is.” He smiles softly, settling a hand over his stomach, watching the other man swallow and look as if he wants to run his hands all over his belly, feeling for the child. That thought does not frighten him, for some reason. “Let’s start with yours.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has really been eating away at my time, but I fount bits and pieces of it, and tried to write during quiet moments. Thanks for sticking with me and with this fic!


	28. Just a little closer

“I’m Dean Winchester. You are my  _ mate _ . You  _ must  _ remember me, you  _ must _ .” Dean says, as he takes in Cas- the same face and eyes, full pink lips and dark hair, long enough to hang over his eyes and airs, a slight frown, nothing malicious, just confusion, and it hurts at Dean to see his mate look at him like this- like he doesn’t know Dean, after everything they had been through, all that separation, to see Cas like this- It’s  _ not _ Cas’s fault, he  _ knows _ that, but it still makes him feel all kinds of broken.

“But...I  _ don’t _ .” Cas frowns a little, presses his lips together, a familiar gesture. He folds his hands together, and Dean moves closer, so their knees push together, and he is close enough to scent Cas, the same clean scent, with the unmistakable undertone of pregnant omega, sweet like freshly baked bread and honey spread. “I  _ don’t _ know you.” He pauses, and Dean steels himself, catches his breath, clenches his eyes shut so Cas doesn’t see the pain. He does. “I’m...sorry.” A hand, light on his shoulder. “But I would like to know more.” He cups a hand to Dean’s cheek, and seems surprised by his own actions. Dean lean into the touch like a man dying of thirst reaches out for the last precious drops of clear water. “About you- about  _ us _ .”

“You believe me?” Dean asks, and he knows the lilt of hope in his voice makes him sound weak, like he’s the one baring his throat to his omega, trying not to lose him. Again.  _ There’s nothing weak about that _ , a voice in his head, sounding suspiciously like Sam, pokes at him. He ignores it, and focuses on Cas instead. Cas tries to pull back his wrist from Dean, and Dean realizes he’s been holding on too hard, wincing at the redness of Cas’s skin. It will bruise later, but he still holds on, not willing to lose what little contact he has with Cas. Even when he’s close, it feels like there is a great distance between them. They keep going, and Dean doesn’t lose sight of Cas. 

\----

Cas scrapes together what little he’s gathered here in the last few weeks, helping tidy the room and putting away the woven blankets he’s been sleeping on. 

“You don’t have to do it, really, I can clean up when you go,” Kevin rushes over to him, brown eyes filling with concern as they flit between him and Dean. The other omega wrings his hands a little, pulling at the hem of the soft shirt. “Besides, you’re having a child,” he moves over, pulling Cas away from the pile of blankets.

“Thank you for having me here, Kevin.” Cas smiles. Despite not knowing him for long, Cas finds that he likes being in the company with the easygoing man. But Dean now waits for him, pacing anxiously at the doorway.

“You can still stay- you don’t have to go with him.” Kevin frowns, and moves closer to Cas. And though the other omega tries to suppress it, a note of sourness gives away his discomfort at having Dean near. He almost followed them into the hut, but Cas made Dean stay at the door. No omega likes having strange Alphas around. 

“I- I’m sorry, about bringing him here-” he really should have insisted that Dean stay away from the hut, at least until he packs up, but the Alpha just follows him, sullen, and his scent gives way to something dangerous, predatory, enough to make Cas want to shy away, at least a little.

Kevin shrugs. “I get it- can’t really say no- he’s an  _ Alpha _ .” 

Cas wants to say it’s not like that, explain that Dean- why is he already calling him Dean in his mind, when they’ve- from his point of view, at least, when they’ve just met? It’s a feeling that is difficult to put in words, but despite his slight displeasure with Dean at this moment, it’s only at his refusal to leave his side. 

“It’s not like that.” Cas whispers quietly. “ _ He _ ’s not like that. I know it.” 

When he leaves, he turns, one last time at the sun setting over azure waters, at the hut he’s been staying at for almost a month, feeling cool breeze in his hair and the little life in him move and push. Dean steps up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, taking the little bits and pieces that Cas packs into a little sack, what little he owns from this confusing new life he made for himself here. He leans against Dean as the other man leads him away from the ocean. 

\----

Dean settles Cas and Imp at a slightly larger village, still off the coast of the Southern seas but large enough to have a small inn and stable, and watches Cas sleep under the candle light. He remembers, suddenly, of the times he would wake to Castiel watching him in the early hours of the morning, when Dean is still muggy and soft with sleep, stroking his hair or cheek. He misses that, even now, though that is no longer covered by rage or desperate worry as it had been for so long. 

Cas frowns a little in his sleep, dark lashes fluttering on sunken cheeks. He’s lost weight, even as his belly swells with child-  _ their _ child, and that thought whacks Dean in the chest, leaving him out of breath. He can’t do what he has done- riding all the way down the Southern plains, in wind and rain, even sudden floods that makes him race against the river until the mud on the banks no longer grabs at him, dragging him done with his steed. 

Dean pays for the next few nights with what little coin he has left, a numerous promises after showing his sigil- a horned god strung on his neck with thick string, to convince the ragged old owners that he and Cas will not overstay their welcome. How this place is still running is no mystery, though- there are no other towns, and no other inns until tired travelers reach the next small settlement, nearly five days of hard riding away.

He bends, reaching to cover Cas’s legs again, letting his fingers stray and stroke up his thigh, but a quick twitch beneath closed eyes and Dean snaps back, unwilling to wake his sleeping mate. This close to each other, their scents mingle once more, and something eases over, telling Dean that he really did it, he found Cas, and now they are together once more, and anything else- Cas’s missing memories, Dean’s own unannounced leave from his people- that will have to come later. He presses a quick kiss to Cas’s cheek, nuzzling the mark, letting Cas’s scent soak into his. 

A quick letter to Sam means that he can send as many guards as possible down to this town- it is large enough that a traveling Kanate like theirs know of it, far away from their territory as it is. 

“Just wait a little longer.” Dean whispers, covering Cas’s hands with his. “I’ll get us back home.” He prays once more, to his Gods and to Cas’s, thanking them for returning his mate to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School's been busy but I've been working on it when I get a little free time. Here's the next chapter! It's all recovery from here on!


	29. Tell the world I'm coming home

They break their fast over broiled fish and heavy grains, rough bread on clunky plates, though the inn-owners seem to have warmed up to their presence, though the old man still gives Dean some dirty looks when he sees Cas stumbling a little, trying not to groan as he rubs at his back.

“Traveling when your omega is with child?” He tuts, shaking his head. “Now, when  _ my _ lady had my boy, I’d never put her through that.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s different.” He looks around, not wanting to explain himself to the old man. There will be enough explaining when they do get back, but Sam’s birds returned early that morning- it seems that the camp is at the edge of their territories, only a two-day ride from where they are. So all they have to do is wait. 

Dean seats himself next to Cas, pressing his leg up against the omega. He leans in a little, but despite knowing it would come, he still can’t help feel a slight stab of disappointment when Cas leans away. 

“Dean?” Cas asks, putting his bread down and turning to him, and Dean pauses, really taking in his mate’s look of concern. Even now, Cas tries to care for him, even when  _ Dean  _ is the one who needs to be strong for them both, be someone Cas can lean on, even if he doesn’t know him. Not yet- but he will. There  _ has _ to be something. Dean  _ will _ think of something. 

“Nothing wrong, Cas, I just want to ask you about somethin’.” Dean relaxes a little, and smiles. He will think of something to get Cas’s memories back, yes, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get to know _ this _ Cas, too. 

\----

“Oh! Castiel! I’ve missed you so, so much!” The slightly teary omega gushes at him, and Cas stares, hesitantly covering her with his arms, holding her as closely as he can with his belly in the way. The child kicks and he grimaces a little, letting the woman step away from him. “Oh- Kanah, you’re _ alive _ !” She lifts her hand to her lips, suddenly realising that she got too close as Dean starts to growl a little, a friendly rumble, but frightening enough. 

“Stop, Dean.” He leans against the Alpha. “I’m  _ sure  _ she means no harm.” 

“Charlie.” Dean nods, and relaxes against Cas, and the woman- Charlie, slumps a little as well. 

“Sam sent me- he thinks it’ll help Kanah to have someone he knows here.” She runs a hand through flame red hair, and though she addresses Cas with a formal title, Cas can tell that the other omega is casual with him the way the other guards milling about weren’t. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Dean squeezes Cas’s hand once more, and strides off to prepare the wagon the men brought with them. Dean told him he is Kan of a great tribe, but it isn’t until now that Cas can see how fast Dean’s brother put together a traveling guard that he can truly comprehend the power they hold. 

“I- you said my name is Castiel- is it Castiel?” Cas asks, as the name strikes something in him, something familiar, though he’s been thinking of himself as Cas now for so long he finds it hard to fit that name in his mind. 

“Oh- oh  _ no _ , you don’t remember us? Or  _ anything _ ?” Charlie asks, face full of concern. Her scent fills the space between them, something comforting, and Cas smiles as he recognises the familiarity of it. 

“I don’t- but I think I  _ will _ recall, eventually.” He’s been dreaming in flashes, of lying in a field of grass with Dean, of Dean holding him on a bed of furs, and of other things, too. “You are- with child, yes?” He can see a mating bite on the side of her neck. She looks happy, and that is important. He sees many unhappy omegas at the healers, but all he could do then was to offer words of comfort. 

“Yes.” She smiles, and Cas wishes suddenly that he can remember mating with Dean. He’s been kind to him, and a good man. “Can I...?” She asks, stroking a hand down his lower arm. Cas reveals in the touch, and in sharing the scent of another omega like him. He leans into her soft touch. 

“I miss  _ knowing _ Dean.” He confesses. He knows that he’s Dean’s mate, Dean told him as much, but the more he knows of the man know, the more he aches for all the moments that’s lost in the depths of his mind. “I know him  _ now _ , but it’s  _ different _ .  _ He’s _ different around me, I  _ know _ it.” But when he tries to dig deeper, his head hurts with such ferocity that he almost collapses

“He  _ loves  _ you.” She steps away. “The Kan- Dean, he always did, we could all see it.” They both turn to Dean, and he looks back, giving them a small wave. “He-  _ we all were _ devastated, when you- you know.” She looks down. “Gone.” 

“I don’t remember.” Cas hates these words that he have to repeat, over and over again. He feels heavy, weighed down by the blankness in his mind. The child gives him a sharp kick then, as if to knock away these thoughts from him. “I wish I could. I miss them, but I don’t remember what I miss- it’s.  _ Frustrating _ .” 

“Cas?” Dean strides over, pulling a cloak over Cas’s shoulder. It spills over onto the grass, thick and warm, and Cas sighs as Dean’s scent washes over him. 

“See you on the other side.” Charlie grins, and waves, and a tall woman in guard uniform and riding boots pulls her away. Cas feels a slight stab of want at the easiness of their movement. It leaves when Dean takes his hand, and smiles at him, soft lines easing into the corners of warm green eyes. 

“Lets go home, Cas.” He whispers, before pressing his lips against Cas’s. He reveals in the kiss, soft and sweet. 

The setting sun encases Dean in a warm, golden glow. Cas keeps hold of Dean’s hand, and knows that he is already home. Home is where Dean is, and he feels good, he feels _ right _ , when he is with his mate. 

“Yes, Dean. Lets go home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's day!


	30. Reinstated

Dean wakes to Cas’s comforting weight, his mate leaning on his shoulder as he sleeps, lashes fluttering in red and golden light. Dean presses closer, drawing the curtains to a full open. It took him some time to coax Cas onto the carriage, and Dean  _ knows  _ it has to be Cas’s time in the hands of Roman’s Kanate that caused this. 

If Dean had not already killed the man- Dean forces himself to relax, to not let the heated scent of anger through, when he sees Cas’s nose twitch and his mate frown in his sleep. Cas shifts, frowning, and Dean can see that he is in discomfort most of the time, even in his sleep. The child- Dean touches Cas’s stomach lightly, and the child gives a little kick, enough that Dean can feel it but not hard enough to wake Cas. 

“Shh.” Dean whispers, even if he knows their child cannot yet hear him. “Don’t wake your father.” It hits him, once more, knocking his breath out, knowing that he will be a  _ father _ . Dean thinks of his own father, and how that’d turn out for him and Sam. His father has been harsh, ever since losing their mother, but he tried to care, tried to make the best of their harsh life, and created the largest Kanate in the Southlands for Dean and Sam to inherit.  

“Dean?” Cas blinks awake, shifting against Dean’s shoulder. 

“We’re going home, Cas.” Dean replies, pressing a kiss against Cas’s temple. 

“Oh.” Cas lies down once more, resting on Dean’s shoulder. “Home. Home is good.” He whispers, before drifting off to sleep once more. 

\----

When Sam finally returns from his diplomatic meeting or whatever, Dean stands waiting. He could have come in full Kan regalia, signalling his return as Kan, but he can see that Sam has done a good job- a great job at leading. Better than me, Dean thinks, and smiles a little. This is not something he can fault his brother for, so he throws on something casual- riding clothes, a simple cloak. 

Sam is different now, and though Dean has only been away for several months, his brother seems older and wiser, and in a good way. Sure of himself- a better leader than Dean, he thinks, all involved in the  _ negotiations  _ and  _ diplomacy _ that Dean dislikes so much. 

“What is that thing I see on your face, Sam?” Dean laughs, and claps his brother on the back, sending Sam stumbling a little, also laughing. 

“What thing?” Sam rubs at the bristles sticking out of his chin he’s calling a beard. 

“That  _ thing _ you’re calling a ‘beard.” Dean nudges at his brother, happy that they are once more falling into their familiar, comforting patterns of bickering. The whole way back from the coastal village to their main camp, he’s been having this idea, and gave it plenty of thought. 

“I’m not going to take over.” Dean says, and Sam frowns. “I’ve been thinkin’-” he rubs at his chin. “I’ve been thinking that we can try something new.”

“Like what?” Sam tugs at his cloak. He’s gone casual too, like when they were younger, when their father still ruled, when there was no wars yet. The brothers relax, letting their shoulders set and muscles release their tension. 

“Like you-” Dean points to his brother, and then at himself. “And me. Doing this ruling thing.  _ Together _ .” 

“You think we can do that?” Sam asks, pushing his hair out of his eyes. One of these days Dean will cut it all off. 

“I  _ know _ we can.” Dean smiles, and thinks of his family. His brother, his mate, his unborn child. He will have to get to know his men once more, and know to share his rule with his brother, but things  _ will  _ get better. He  _ knows  _ that now, somewhere deep in his heart, that he is  _ home _ in the way he hasn’t been for a long time. 

\----

They all look at him like they knew him, who he was, and Cas can hear the whispers, the wide-eyed concerned looks and their shocked voices, that he is even alive is a miracle. He’s heard the story, from Dean and from others, and from the man in front of him, staring at Cas like he is going to disappear. Like Dean did, when Cas first saw him at the healer’s hut, almost a lifetime ago. Now he sits, shifting on a pile of furs, trying to find the position that gives him the least discomfort. 

“Castiel?” Cas looks up, and sees a man, an Alpha, enter. The guards must know him well, to have let him in. Resting a hand on his belly, he stands, watching the man clench and unclench his fist, his jaw.  _ Ah _ . Cas thinks. This must be someone that he knew. 

“We all came- Everyone who can get here-” the other man chokes up, and Cas can see he wants to come closer. There is something familiar about him, too, about his scent, the same sharp clean tones they share. Family.  _ Brother. _

“You’re my brother.” The Alpha pauses, and turns to him, eyes wide in surprise. 

“You- Castiel? You remember?” Cas shakes his head.

“I don’t, but,” Cas pauses. “I feel that I know you.” 

“Well.” A long pause. Gold eyes flit from Cas to the tent, the meagre items he’s brought from the village by the ocean neatly tucked into one corner. “ _ That’s _ -” he gives Cas a quick half-smile, and moves closer. “That’s enough. I’m Gabriel. If you don’t know, you know now.” 

“I’m sorry. That I-” Cas pauses, one hand still on the Alpha- his  _ brother’s _ shoulder. 

“You- don’t. Don’t say that, Castiel.” Gabriel smiles. “Can I, uh,” he waves his hand in the general direction of Cas’s stomach. Plenty of people have looked, and asked, curious about their leader’s child, but either Dean would shake his head and lead him away, or Cas would feel too uncomfortable to agree. 

“Of course.” 

The Alpha lights up as he strokes a hand over Cas’s belly, a feather-soft, gentle touch, and Cas melts a little. It’s hard, no matter how hard he tries, to fit back in the Kanate, knowing that he barely had time to know them all before he was taken. Being with someone who knew him from  _ before _ all that, even his marriage to Dean, that stirs the urge to know more about himself. 

“Please, sit, G- brother, tell me about my life, from before- before this.” Cas pauses as they make their way to the bed of furs, incandescent sunlight falling across the open tent, filling it with its warm, golden presence. The cool and clean aroma he can’t quite discern even from his own scent stronger than ever. “I... _need_ to know.” 

And Gabriel told him, and Cas listened, about the brothers and sisters he grew up with in the North, about the great snow-capped mountains and castles carved into sheer cliffs, about how the order that he marry came so suddenly. 

“My brothers- my other brothers and sisters, are they here too?” Cas asks, wanting to know. He wants them here, yet he does not. Gabriel shakes his head. 

“Michael’s mate, he’s-” he pauses “about as far along as you are.” Rubbing his chin, the Alpha pops another piece of hardened honey into his mouth. Pursing his lips, he continues. “And Lucifer’s running half the things in the North, with how Michael is tripping over his mate.” 

“Ah.” Knowing that these brothers of his is mated and taken care of, even if he does not know him truly, soothes something in him. Deep within, Cas knows that his family did not always have the best of times, and from what Gabriel just said, they were torn and pulled apart far too often. “And you?”

His brother shrugs. “I’m- heh, happy you’re alive. What else  _ can  _ I say, Castiel?” 

Cas smiles back at this man, and makes a note to ask Dean whether he could return to the North, to meet his family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAh! Sorry about being so late with the updates! I've been super busy(and will be super busy), but I'll find time to write and update!


	31. Interlude

Cas finds his ways towards the sick tents. In a camp like this, there are always people in need of healing. They tell him that before- before what ever happened to him, he would move with the healers and help the sick. Maybe it means he hasn’t changed all that much from who he was before. 

Later, Dean finds him, fiddling with something in his hands, and Cas catches a glint of blue. 

“Dean!” Cas lets Dean stride up to him. As he grows closer to the day the child will be born, Cas finds himself growing slow, content to bask under the sun or swaddling in furs, letting Dean run his fingers through his hair. Dean takes his hand, and leads him back to their tent. 

He keeps trying to fit himself back in here, but it’s been difficult. Every time the Kanate travels near the Southern river- and they often do, for the sake of navigation, Cas feels himself seizing up, as if a hand is reaching into his chest, freezing cold fingers twisting until he couldn’t breathe anymore-

“Cas- Cas!” Dean’s fingers tightens around his arm, his grassy scent strong, almost overpowering in the attempt to smother Cas’s own scent, made acrid by fear. 

The sky is suddenly too bright, almost blinding as Cas forces his eyes shut as his head aches. The guards moves over, unsure of what to do, the curious onlookers, their scents all mixing together, even the crunch of dried grass under his boots- it’s overwhelming, all this, and Cas finds himself slumping against Dean, unable to move. 

“Dean-  _ Dean _ , I can’t-” he feels suddenly nauseous, like something is pushing, pushing up against a wall in his mind, but his mind knows that he cannot, should not be made to remember what he has forgotten, not yet- 

“C’mon, Cas, I’ll get you…” Dean’s voice fades away. 

\----

Dean stays with Cas until he wakes, and they sit in silence as Cas gulps down a full skin of water, face still pale from nearly collapsing on him. Dean silently curses his lack of thought, moving past that fucking river again. He knows there are things that sets his mate off, makes him panicked and struggling to even breathe, and each time Dean sees it happen it feels like a punch to the gut, knowing that he cannot protect Cas from his fears.

“Dean.” Cas sets the waterskin down, looking down to his hands. “I should go.” 

“Cas!  _ Wait _ , I have something for you-” Dean reaches into his coat, finding the pouch. Dean doesn’t like how Cas wanders around camp, looking for all the ways to fit himself back in. He doesn’t need Cas to do that, he just needs his mate to look after himself- or better, let  _ Dean _ look after him. The longer they are together with Cas in this state, the worse Dean gets when separated from his omega. His Alpha becomes anxious, fraught with unknown tension. His brother tells him it’s natural, that after Dean spent so long away from his mate, for him to want to be at Cas’s side at all times.

When he’s supposed to be taking up his duties as Kan- or at least, part of his duties, so Sam doesn’t have to do it all, he wants to be near his mate. When he’s out riding, the sun on his back and wind in his hair, he wants to be with Cas. 

Dean remembers- of course he does, the day he tied these gems to his mate’s wrist and promised to look after him, to always be with him. In so,  _ so many _ ways, he failed that promise, but Cas is still here, still alive and with him. “I...these were yours- a gift- from, uh,”

“Before I- I know.” Cas shifts closer to him, and Dean reveals in the heat of his mate’s body. Nights in the plains gets cold, and even a breeze comes with a sharp bite. So this, here, being with his mate in a cold night,  _ this _ is what home is. 

“Hey, hey- Cas, no.” Dean knows that in some messy way, Cas thinks it’s partially his fault for not being able to remember his past, and that’s horseshit, and Dean tells him as much. He clasps the gems back around Castiel’s wrist, and Cas lifts his hand, watching the ways they shift in the light.  

“Thank you, Dean.” His voice is even, and Dean smiles once more at his mate. He does not make another promise to Cas, but he has carried it with him for so long, they felt like blocks of iron, weighing him down, reminding Dean of his lost mate- but Cas isn’t lost to him, not anymore. “What if…” his voice falters. “What if I don’t- I  _ can’t _ remember you? Where would that leave me, Dean?” 

“Even if-” Dean cups Cas’s cheek, raising his chin so he meets Dean in the eye. “Even if you can’t remember anything-” he closes his eyes for a moment, steels himself. Dean knows that after so long without his memories, it’s all too fucking likely that Cas can’t  _ ever _ \- 

And he sees Cas, the same look on his face from when they first met, and Dean knows he’s still the same Cas. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Dean-” Dean cuts his mate off with a kiss. Cas’s lips are chapped, and Dean deepens the kiss, until Cas opens up, letting Dean take from him, and his scent is like home, like family. 

“It doesn’t matter, Cas. It  _ really _ doesn’t.” Dean holds Cas in his arms, pulling him close, tangling his hand into Cas’s hair, stroking down his neck and back. “It doesn’t matter because I love you, I will  _ always _ love you, okay?”

“Okay.” Cas whispers against Dean’s chest. 

  
“I mean it, Cas. No matter what.” And that is the truth, Dean’s full truth. This is his mate, his man, and nothing,  _ nothing _ will stop Dean from loving Cas. He wraps his arms around Cas, and feels a small kick against his palm as he strokes across Cas’s stomach. This is _ his _ . His mate, his child, his  _ family _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's been super busy, but here's another chapter!


	32. Red star at dawn

It’s when a sharp pain hits him in the stomach that Cas realise something is deeply, terribly  _ wrong _ . 

“Quick,  _ quick _ !” One of the omega girls attending the wounded with him holds him up, shouting for the others. The pain blurs everything, his hearing, his sight- the pain deepens, an intense ache interspersed with sharp stabs of red-hot pain. No, no no- it’s not supposed to be like this, it’s  _ not _ -

“Call the Kan!” Someone shouts, and Cas grips onto the nearest person, desperately hoping for them to all just  _ stop _ \- his own scent sour with pain and fear overwhelms him, and it must be overwhelming to all the others near him. Cas groans, barely able to hold himself up. 

“Someone, help!”  “Get a healer!” Their voices crowds around him, their scents reflecting the absolute terror Cas is giving off.

“Please,  _ please _ ,” he whispers, feeling his entire body pulse with a sickly warmth, an unnatural flush washing over him. 

They lie him down in the healer’s tent, where she receives all those too ill for the other sick tents. Cas feels his head spin as he tries to catch images flitting through his mind, dark and red and confusing. He feels nauseous, a breath stuck in his throat, heart thundering in his chest, beating against his chest. The rush of blood so loud it fills the room, and those gathering around him become shadows, lost to his senses as they try to contain the overwhelming pain that this is.

Oh, he should have known, the discomfort deep in his belly has been growing, and every time the child kicks he feels it drop lower, ready to burst. Cas never gave thought about how painful this could be- or perhaps there is just something wrong with  _ him _ , he’s been so stuck in his own mind that he-

Another burst of pain, low and heavy, and Cas is gone, the wall in his mind broken down by the pain, the deep, hollow sense of wrongness sitting low in his belly. 

 

\----

 

Dean snarls, seeing red, ready to rip out the throats of the guards blocking him. 

“Kan! Dean! Please!” Jo grabs his shoulder, and Dean knows her enough to hold himself back. 

“Let me in! I need to see Cas!” He yells into her face, the wind booming, howling, a great burning ball of flame in his chest that tells Dean his mate is in danger. 

“I’m sorry, you  _ really _ can’t see him right now.” 

Dean forces himself to breathe, in, out, in, out, until he calms himself a little, just enough that his vision is only red at the edges. “Why. Not.” He grits out, feeling his teeth grind together. It hurt, but nothing like the blind panic that is gripping at him, squeezing his heart out of his chest. Like a hole has opened up on the earth beneath him, and he is standing on air, waiting to fall. He tries to push again, but they were firm and Dean did not wish to harm his soldiers. 

“It’s too dangerous- for _ him _ -” she shakes her head, and Dean’s heart sinks. 

“W- why- I need to know-” he amends, shaking her shoulders a little. He wants to know, but he does not. The sounds of distant chatter and riders become just that- distant, like all sounds has been blocked from his mind apart from this. 

Her lips pursed into a grim, thin line, Jo did not answer. They were cut off by a soft cry, and Dean almost pushes past her, feet sinking, slipping in the wet mud. A healer, clad in white and flaxen robes, pushes out past him, and Dean is pushed away. 

“Please,  _ please _ , we can’t have you there, not like this-” Panicking, wrathful, and Dean knows this, he has held back panicking Alphas from the healing tents before, forced them away so their scent does not throw their mates off, and he’s heard of how Omegas react badly to their Alpha’s distress, 

 

\----

 

“Sam- Sam, I won’t- I fucking  _ refuse  _ to believe-” Dean runs a hand through his hair, tangled and messy with dirt and blood. He does not care, not one bit. “I fucking refuse to believe that  _ this  _ is the fucking life the Gods mean for me to have.” 

Sam presses his lips together into a thin line. Seeing his brother like this, teeth clenched and beaten down, reminds him of the days when Cas was first taken. But this is worse,  _ much _ worse, this is Cas, hurting right under their watch, and it’s something no one but the healers and the Gods can do anything about. 

Even with a beta’s less heightened sensibility to scents, he can scent Dean’s distress rolling off his brother like a dark cloud, making him look years older and much more weary. 

“We- we’ll get through this, Dean, I swear.” Sam says, and hopes to the Gods that this is true. There is no telling how much more Dean can take after all he’s been through. If he loses his mate and child- Sam shakes his head, not wanting to think about anything down that down. He refuses to. 

Dean bows his head low, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles go white. He doesn’t pray, and neither did Sam. Those milling about stood far away from them, whispering, some weeping softly for what could happen, some kneeling and praying.

The clouds roll low, graying, heavy droplets pouring down as the crowds turn away to their shelters, the storm gathering, growing, hiding the shrieks and wails that will no doubt spread through the camp, if worse comes to worst. So Sam waits with his brother, even as Dean seems to shut into himself, as the rain soaks through even the thickest of cloaks, all the way down to their bones. 

 

\----

 

Castiel blinks open his eyes, his body aching all over- is the war over? Has he been rescued? A swirl of images, swift memories deftly escaping his confused mind. He hears the squalling cry of a child, the distant shouts and the smell of blood and herbs. A hand touches his shoulder, urging him to breathe, to push-

An intense, almost overwhelming ache between his legs leaves Castiel breathless with pain, and a milky liquid dripped between his lips leaves him reeling, falling into unconsciousness. 

He floats, through serene water, as if he was not yet born, surrounded by the waters of the womb- nothing like the raging river, that almost ripped him to pieces, if not for the soft blue glow of his necklace- his mother’s necklace. And then Castiel is flying, soaring, his soul light and free, without the heavy ache on his back or the presence of his child- _ child _ ? Where is-

Castiel pauses then, when a figure appeared at the corner of his eye, a golden hue around her-

“ _ Mother? _ ” He remembers then, her soft brown locks curling down her gentle face, and she strokes his cheek, like she did so long ago, when Castiel was still a child. He feels soft, and warm, cocooned in clouds shimmering in golden light. 

“Oh, my sweet Castiel,” she croons, cupping his cheek with her hand. Castiel closes his eyes and leans against her palm. “You shouldn’t be here, not yet.” A soft, cool kiss against his forehead.

Then, he falls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having a baby is dangerous in any world, no less in a medieval-ish world with very little medical equipment and only the lightest touches of magic(not full on fantasy here). Alphas and Omegas actually can't be together when baby comes(in my setting at least) since most Alphas tend to lose it when their mates are in danger and their scents become panicky, which throws the Omegas off even more.  
> As for the incredibly late update...  
> Between work, school, and a pretty bad injury I...haven't been able to write much. Finally got some time to myself and banged this one out. Don't worry though, the happy ending is forever promised and will be there. I'm still kinda laid up though, so it might take some time  
> Between the spn finale and endgame it's safe to say I've shed many tears. How bout you guys?


	33. Finale

It’s not unappealing, this sensation of falling. What surrounds him does not feel like air- rather, Castiel thinks, it feels like gliding on silk, freeing, when he falls through, seeing the clouds go by his eyes, endless, endless waves of soft, fluffed clouds, pure white snow spun into high mountains, an endless flight. Castiel sighs, and lets himself fall and float in this dream of his-  _ why _ was he here? He can’t quite remember.

Castiel closes his eyes, letting himself become lost in the sensation when- 

“Cas! Castiel!” Castiel gasps, eyes wide as he falls onto a cloud, bouncing on the soft surface until he manages to stop himself. He looks around, but there was no one around, no indication that the voice came from anywhere. 

“Please wake up, Cas- we  _ need  _ you.  _ Dean _ needs you.” Another voice, and Castiel feels himself shift a little, no longer so light that he can float on the clouds, watching the mountains and valleys shift beneath him. Dean? Dean! Dean is...the feeling of weightlessness returns, and Castiel sees his mother above him again, so he reaches out to her, no longer so lost in this vast world. 

“Can I not stay here with you?” He whispers as she embraces him once more, eyes closed tight. The bright light shines through his lids, painting his vision with a field of gold. But Castiel knows he cannot. 

“You know you have to return.” She sighs, and pauses. “To your _family_.” 

Castiel lurches downwards. And as he falls, the clouds dissipates before his eyes, and the mountains became like mist so he could fall through them. And as he fell, more and more of what he has lost in the clouds returned to him, and Castiel is glad that he was pushed to return- he can’t imagine Dean- his  _ mate _ \- to be without him and their child to be raised without him, even if they had Dean’s clan and his brother and brothers in arms. 

\- - - -

What a sight it is, Dean decides, as he kneels exhausted and covered in grime, eyes sore and dry from being wide open and awake for so long, still in a light coat despite the colder weather setting in as summer gives in, to see his mate open those beloved blue eyes and gives him a small, tired smile. 

“Shh, Cas, Cas, it’s all right,” Dean murmurs, trying to press himself as close to him as possible without crushing the omega under his weight. He finally manages to push his dark thoughts down, and with Cas back it’s a lot easier to not let them overwhelm him and make the entire plains fill with the bitter and sour scent of an Alpha’s failure. “I love you, I _ love you _ -”

“Dean? Dean! I-” Dean covers Cas’s mouth with his palm, revealing at the warm lips on his palm. His mate is pale, tired, but cleaned up and wrapped in furs. All others melt out of the tent, leaving them alone together. 

“You don’t have to say anything, Cas.” He whispers, hoarsely, throat dry. Cas’s blue eyes bears into his, like water from a clear pond, soothing everything that hurt. 

“I remember everything.” Cas blurts out, before Dean can say anything more, and the Kan felt the ground shift beneath him, like the day his father’s cloak was thrown over his shoulders at the great city, the light reflecting of the great stallion hurting his eyes. “I remember  _ us _ , Dean- and-”

Dean had thought that he could live with Cas and know that his mate does not remember their vows or their first meeting, and make new memories even as the old ones haunted them both. But this- this relief almost brings him to his knees, hearing Cas- and seeing the look in his eyes, Dean believes what he sees, what he hears. And his heart swells with such relief it could grow until it bursts and paints his chest with nothing but the love he has for his mate. 

\- - - -

After his realization, Castiel is too tired to do anything but sleep, lying in the arms of his mate. A quick bathe with the help of the healers later, his child is finally brought to him, a small girl with wisps of gold hair and plump cheeks. And as he holds her in his arms, Castiel feel his heart bursting with a different kind of love, different from the love he feels for his brothers or his mate.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” He hands her to Dean, who rocks her gently while Sam fumbles with his hands, looking almost afraid as Dean hands his child to his brother. 

“Sam was never _this_ small, y’know.” 

Castiel laughs as Sam blushes and grumbles. “You were much smaller back then, Dean.” 

He blinks away the tears in his eyes before Dean could see them. This is good, he thinks. Finally, things feel good and right and there is no more hole in his memories eating away at him. As long as his mate and his family is with him, Castiel knows that he can face anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of the story, but not the end. I'm super busy now with school and looking for work, but in my spare time I may craft a few epilogues yet. Sorry about the long wait, by the way. I think that in the future writing the full work and then publishing it may be the way to go for me. Thanks for the kudos and kind comments, and for sticking with me and this fic. Love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written any fics in years, so this is my tentative step back into the fanfic world.


End file.
